Hope is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all— …
~ Emily Dickinson
July 12th, 2015
Hello Mother, hello Daughter,
As I walk to hot kettle this morning I am particularly struck by the sounds around. A few girls have risen and are playing. Birds are calling each other by name.
Take a deep breath, or a few if you like. Turn up your speaker volume and click box turtle photo below. Indulge yourself with this aural gift—should you choose—and join us in the sounds of this ancient forest.
My heart now feels twice the size it was than when we arrived. Full. Joyfull. Blessed. Grateful. Today is a day for greeting each moment with complete gratitude, knowing that each mighty adventurer—all 17 of us—shall leave this special place having become more of who we are meant to be, each carrying with us memories of woodland magic.
To all our retreat goers, I am deeply grateful to have been a co-creator with you for this very special time in our lives.
I am grateful to our secret retreat host for having the vision, intention and for being a caretaker of such a sacred gathering place.
To the Mighty Creative Girls, I thank you for the blessing of seeing you natural and free. I saw you caring for the wildlife, and watched how your concern and reverence grew everyday. Because of each of you, I am assured our world is raising the healers we so desperately need.
Wendy, I thank you for the creative inspiration you so freely shared though out our visioning. Birthing this adventure together with you served to more deeply activate within me a wilderness–my human wildness–that I aspire to remember for all my days.
And to the Mothers, thank you for trusting Wendy and I, for sharing your precious daughters with us. Thank you for listening to your instincts. The memory of our girls running together barefoot amidst the rabbits, snakes, butterflies and hummingbirds is tattooed upon my soul.
Emma–my daughter and one of my greatest teachers–has a beautiful ability for naming things. Throughout the weekend she offered her gift by naming many of the creatures that came to her; names not as species but known fully by her heart. In the photo above, she discovered a butterfly with a small bend in its wing. She looked at it for a moment and said, “This is Hope.” She perched and clung onto Emma’s finger for a few moments… and then Hope flew up and away.
It was a moment that took my breath away, moving me completely beyond the moment.
While embracing each and every girl and woman in departure, I could feel within us lies the great Hope: I could see the possibility for our human wing-ed flights.
I will never forget our secret forest, or our mighty creative adventure.
in gratitude & love,