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Gifts From the Trees

It was time. Each year for the past 14, I have taken to the woods. Alone. To a place on a hill surrounded by deep green and boulders large enough to form a home's foundation.

There is no cell tower, WiFi, cable, television or contact with the outside world. There is, however, a large pond where frogs croak and 60+ acres of woods where deer wander. It is a setting meant for respite from daily life. While sitting on the small front porch listening to crickets sing, I am without roles or responsibilities. I am not a mother, grandmother, wife, sister, writer, healer, aunt, employee, clinician.

I am just Candace. And that is enough.

Allowing time for spiritual sustenance has always been a necessity for me. If I don't allow/create/make time for quiet, my brain feels the burden. In a fast-paced, on-demand, full of too-much-of-everything world; too much stimulation, too much marketing, too much information at my fingertips, too much distraction, I lose touch with my own voice, my own thoughts and feelings. And I know better! I'm an empath on overload! Ouch! And my spirit suffers while I live among so much busy-ness.

Sitting those days in solitude, bathed in a lack of rush and stress, brought me back to me and into appreciation of the gentleness inherent in just plain breathing and living. Priorities became easier to juggle.

Living and breathing form the base of each of us. Finding minutes or hours or days to be just who you are, without all the pulls, calls, people, emails, messages and responsibilities can shed new light on your path. Giggling at the antics of squirrels and listening to the rustle of leaves on a breezy afternoon unclutters the brain, makes it easier to toss out the should's and the must's. Your soul be will fed by those minutes.

Namaste, to all those accepting the challenges of learning to love and live differently...

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