She looks like my dryad |
The world I live in. Not the world at large, but the one I
personally inhabit. This world is one where everything has a name or spirit or
is deserving of respect. I didn’t wake up one morning and decide this. It just
is where I am. This world is touched by communicating with it, either verbally
or by silently acknowledging and silently conversing. I might see a hawk in the
sky and say “Morning Hawk”, or just think “What a beautiful bird you are Hawk”
and go on with the morning. I might walk by an old tree and say (or think) “Hello
old one. You have a fine crop of leaves. I wonder what you have seen in your life.”
No, I don’t get answers in any traditional way. I don’t hear
(usually) voices in my head. But sometimes just a whisper of “I see you”.
Being in touch with the world this way opens up all kinds of
dialogues and discussions. Trip on a rock in the path and swear “Bloody rock!”
and I might just think “Well, don’t blame me: You are the clumsy bastard who
tripped.” Was that really the rock? Probably not, but maybe? Hell if I know.
But I know this: I have lots to say to the things around me, and the things
around have lots to say in return. You just have to listen.
I noticed shortly after moving to the current house that a
medium sized beech tree had a woman’s face looking at me from the base of the
trunk. From a distance of 30 feet or so she was perfect. Looked a little like
the image of “Ruby Tuesday”. Big hair, pretty face. But when I walk up to the
tree, she disappears. Take a picture and no woman. So I decided she must be a
dryad. Shy but interested. She watches the yard and takes note of what goes on.
I talk to her sometimes when I am out that way, but she never answers back. Not
yet anyway. But from the kitchen she is reassuringly there, looking pretty and
watching.
Say what you will about me. Crazy? Deluded? Fantasizing?
Normal (no, never that) or keyed into the world like few others. Remember that
the old pagan religions of the world considered everything to be animate and
reachable with the right spirit. Maybe more of you should look to the world
around you and try to get in touch. The next time your car dings to remind you
to take the keys, try saying “thank you”. Or the next time you see a bug
crossing your path say “Morning bug. Going to be a great day you think?” As an old
lady I once knew would say “It may not help, but it wouldn’t hurt.”