The swaying trees, rustle a language that can not help but be palpable to my consciousness. For as long as I remember, I have felt a deep relationship and connection with everything green; and have been able to tap into a low, but perceptible energy field emanating out like a cloud of mist from my emerald friends. I have always regarded plants and trees to be wise and honored friends.My childhood was quite lonely, being the last kid in the family; and after being labeled a "weird loner" from other kids at school--up until my last year of high school. Being the last in line at home meant there just wasn't enough time often for my parents to be able to give me the one-on-one time that a child needs. So, there was often little supervision or guidance left-over for me.
So, I was alone a lot, and learned to grow up fast. One way that I adapted to that solitary life was through falling in love with nature. So, plants (and trees, especially) are like old friends and trusted confidants to me. I use to crawl up high in the tall cottonwood trees in my childhood backyard; and escape the fighting going on between my parents into the strong, stable limbs of the trees. There, (I'm not ashamed to admit) I would often talk to them, confide in them and share with them my biggest fears and dreams. So, I try to bring their energy to life through this blog and share their energy with others.
I feel their presence as one would a kitty sitting off on the periphery, taking you in your energy. My senses often pick up on a subtle but steady sound of hushed mumbling, whispering or humming from certain plants when I'm in a particularly balanced palace after a deep meditation. And, I have been known to play music for them. So, I have a deep and very real bond with all living green vegetation, and it gives me much strength and inspiration in my life. It is my hope that humans can rediscover our natural roots and embrace Mother Nature's healing, green energy. Let us heal her, so she can heal us all again. We need to protect our environment--it's the only one we have.
~The Green Man has Spoken~
1 comment:
I like your site. Thanks! Here is a true story of mine in return.
I BROKE THE TABOO WITH A TATTOO
Lisa Nicole Lopes had premonitions about her own death, but she wasn't able to avoid it, despite the early warnings. I feel that I can relate to her, but I dealt with similar suspicions (of my own) differently than she did and I, unlike her, am here to tell you what I did to survive my first encounter with The Reaper.
Lisa Lopes was better known as Left Eye (a nickname that a boyfriend gave her because he said that her left eye was lazy). She was one of three singers in the 80's band TLC. Her premonitions about her own death and subsequent untimely demise are well documented, because Lisa and a crew were filming a documentary in Honduras during the time. Left Eye Lopes spoke on film about her omen, and again after a car that she was riding in had run over and killed a young boy. She lamented that the spirit that killed the boy was actually aiming for her but had missed.
Lopes paid for the little boy's funeral and did what she could to comfort the lost lad's family. Apparently Left Eye was right about the spirit that haunted her, because a month after the boy's death, Lopes died in a car crash (in Honduras). This time she was driving. Lisa was the only one in the vehicle that was wearing a seat-belt, but she died... and everyone else survived.
After hearing a story like this, some would say that it was Lisa's time, and that there wasn't anything that she could do to avoid it. Had I not gone through a similar situation, I might agree. But since I did, I don't.
There was a time when I felt like (my) death was close to me. I ignored the eery feelings for awhile, chocking them up to pessimism, but eventually I faced the strengthening force, first by admitting to my self that it existed. Left Eye got this far, but recognizing spirits isn't rocket science for god's sake. You have to fight shit like this, not freeze like a deer caught in the headlights!
I FOUGHT MY TABOO WITH A TATTOO.
It was 1986 and I was in Davenport, Iowa, when I finally decided to face the Reaper before he faced me. Since the Reaper has no face, I'm speaking figuratively.
I was sitting on a bar stool when a fellow came in asking if anyone wanted to get a tattoo. We chatted, and before too long I was the customer that he was looking for. We left the bar and went to a little garage space that he tattooed out of. The scene was totally unprofessional, as far as tattoo shops go, but since I was a carny (carnival guy) it wasn't anything new to me. I stopped the artist from apologizing for the place and we got down to the business of picking something out to tattoo on me.
There wasn't a lot to choose from, no walls of colorful flash or volumes of designs just a single, thinly filled, loose leaf binder. Having never wanted a skull tattoo, I surprised myself by selecting one with a black rose between it's teeth. "That's the Black Rose Of Death tattoo," the needler told me. "Perfect," I proclaimed! "It's just what I need to fight the reaper. Put it on my left arm where I can keep my eye on him.¨
I believe that the left represents the spiritual side and the right represents the physical side, so my tattoos are placed accordingly. One month later, in Chicago, I was stabbed (in the heart and stomach) to death. The doctor that saved me, said that I have a new birthday and... I still have that tattoo, too.
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