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A Composting Spell



Autumn calls us to rest, to preserve the fruits fallen from the trees, to slow ourselves within darkening days and longer nights, when at last we come to stillness and dream into spaciousness.


Nature shows us how beautiful the slowing is, how the death of what was, flows with ease.


Nature knows the composting of the old nurtures the earth for the coming of the new.


My heart fills with wonder as I witness the changing colours of the leaves, as I watch the trees shed those leaves, letting the wind and rain take them from their branches.

I breathe in deeply the scent of fallen apples already composting in amongst the now brown, sludgy stems of flowers.

I lift my face to the sky to feel the warmth of the rare but golden glowing Autumnal sun, mostly hidden by rain clouds now, clouds which burst and drench the fields, and gift us too, rainbows adorning the valley.


I imagine myself as a tree, an Oak tree.

Oak trees are the last to shed their leaves and last to grow them back again.

The Oak is super slow in her composting and rebirth. She takes her time.

She sheds her baby acorn seeds, not too far from her roots, close enough to witness the tiny shoots of new life emerge with the dawning of Spring.


I feel into how I can be Oak. I feel into not needing to hurry, to take a beat, a breath, to sit awhile in quiet contemplation. Within this quiet I know I will be shown what I need to compost, what I need to let die to make space for the steady coming of rebirth.


I imagine my Oak roots stretching deep into the musty, rich earth, a blanket of nourishment, receiving my own falling leaves to compost. I feed myself with all I have been, wisely knowing there is no need for me to do anything, only to rest and to sleep and dream. My naked, bare bone branches, move only a little now and then. I have no resistance to the wind and rain, they are cleansing and clearing what no longer serves me. My leaves slowly disintegrate, returning to the dark and strengthening my roots. I am grateful and graceful as I change; as I become older, stronger, softer. I am rooted, anchored, I know I am one with the alchemy of life.


I wonder

Which tree resonates with you?

What qualities of your tree do you identify with?

How would it feel for you to stretch your tree roots deep into the earth as you compost what you no longer need?


With so much love

Angie







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