Allowing the upturned, the upheaval

Behind the cottage that Jahfaa, Beauty, and I are staying in right now, the land is disturbed.

There are paths that have been carved by a four wheeler and these paths weave you through a colossal chaos of uprooted trees, branches that have been sawed down, the debris of a forest being cut through and upturned.

It’s wild. I walk through there. Sometimes following the four wheeler path and sometimes finding deer paths to walk. There are still plants of course, and the deer make their way through there often. Leaving their sign upon the earth.

I walk through this place, and I oddly feel right about being there.

I’ve just crossed a threshold in my life. Leaving another living space, or physical home, that wasn’t the right fit, and I am a wanderer again. This time, not jumping into something else, but lingering in the threshold a bit. Giving myself time.

I feel upturned.

I feel uprooted.

And I realize… as I walk this land every other day, that if I can give in… or allow this phase of my life, I will be able to have what I so deeply desire: which is a place to settle and grow roots.

It’s the resistance to where I am right now that comes in the form of longing for it to just be different… that keeps me from actually being able to receive what I want for my next step.

Strikingly, as I walk, I realize this upturned place reminds me of the state of the world right now.

As I walk with her, I feel like I am walking across continents of land, through human society. Upturned, decaying, dissolving.

Systems crumbling, whole ways of being being up-turned.

It’s an initiation. A flipping of the known world upside down. A visit to the underworld.

There’s a place on the land where there is barbed wire. The edge of the property, and beyond the wired fence- forest. In-tact forest. Trees are upright, rooted in the ground, growing in community. Ferns weave their way through every nook and cranny as they do in Cascadia. Living, breathing, changing forest.

And it’s so funny to me. That here I am walking with this upturned place, and yet the forest I crave is just beyond.

The new world, for me, and for us as humans, is there. It can be tasted or seen or felt sometimes, on the wind or in the body. It’s here. And, where I am, where the human species is right now, cannot be rushed past. Ignored. Denied. Resisted.

The upheaval has it’s part to play. It has it’s wisdom to share.

There can be something learned from being upturned, if one is neutral enough to slow down and listen.

Ironically, I receive this from the land. As I walk the upturned place, I call out to the spirit of the place in gratitude and curiosity, and they show themselves to be me as a cool blue. Flowing, soft blue. Some part of me is surprised, and I engage my practice of clearing any judgement or expectation so I can witness in clarity.

I engage with them spiritually, and the land shows me how neutral they are. How the upturned is not something they are upset about at all. They are not in judgement. They don’t hate the humans for cutting most of the trees down. Life continues on. Always will. That they cannot truly be destroyed.

And I relax into this.

And contemplate how fucking powerful something must be to harbor such resilience.

Being upturned can be so many things as a human being.

It can be scary; it can be exciting. It can be all of the emotions that are possible in this precious body.

And- it helps me to connect to a wider perspective. A perspective grounded in the big picture. And this perspective tells me that being upturned, experiencing upheaval, and perceived chaos- is necessary. It’s unavoidable. It’s even valuable.

I return to my walk, and I do my best to relax my human mind. To settle into this. Into the unknown. Smile even. Allow the upturned.

Give myself permission… to really be here and experience it.

Written October 2021

WA, USA