Palo Santo: The Long & Winding Road to Mystical Holy Space

Palo Santo: The long and winding road to a Mystical Holy Space. . . A clearing on the path.

 

Sometimes we just need to let the light in…no matter how it comes to us. It is there, ready to greet us at every moment of our lives. Shadows, reflections, and illuminating visions are all around us. Always.

The light reflected through my windows opens to Moonshine every night… shadowing the seashells on nearby shelves of curiosities, and brightening the crystals that sparkle with intense white light next to bright orange coral and antique Chinese paintbrushes, pens and pencils. Near to them is white paper, waiting for a poem or message to be written.  

Antique bone china in colors of yellow, gray, and white smile cheerfully next to bright orange champagne bottles (Veuve Clicquot to be exact) that stand tall and are filled with flowers blooming from their necks with happy memories.  Books. Paintings. Art. Sculpture. Antiques. A portrait taken on the beach at sunset with my dog, alongside photographs of all my Beloveds… framed and standing on beautiful easels. Lamps with white light, Peacock feathers moving in the wind, so soft and easy next to the silver and white Apple computer and iPhone on my desktop.  

A cozy tufted chair, a meditation bed with lots of pillows, luxurious Italian linens, a cashmere blanket, and soft music playing in the background against a knobbed cabinet, secretly hiding the treasures of my past. Hidden from plain sight but obvious by their weight in the room, they are there, waiting for my heart to open once again to reveal myself in those darkest moments that lead to Grace.

The antique wooden Buddha sits still with cracks deep inside the wood of its chest and shoulders, completely quiet, and always sitting in silence. She is crowned in gold and jewels with a clay lotus flower held inside her palm, . . . a simple gift from a lovely man at Hermes in Berlin when my Mother and I went to visit her home of long ago.  

Buddha does not notice.  She sees everything from a deep inner knowing of her heart.  Next to her live the purple orchids at a base of candles that light her up every evening, as Appalachian Spring resounds quietly in the background, next to Alina Baraz. Wild Is The Wind completes my evening mediation and ratio until the sound is complete silence and the candles have burned to their end.  

Meditation. Prayer. An old Italian Triptypch, my Alter, with a simple Rosary, a small bottle of Holy Water from the House of the Virgin Mary in Ephesus (Greece) I visited a few years ago… a cedar wooden box of ashes left empty – except for my Beloved Dog Countess’ heart collar and ID tag. A calendar, a notepad, an appointment book, and a small desk next to cabinets. Cups of pens and pencils…a printer filled with paper. Note cards. Staples. Paper clips. Satin Ribbons. Rubber bands. A Tortoise box, a leafy frame, and a crystal Angel next to a crystal gold Beetle.

Smooth stones. Shells from beaches I have visited around the world. Gemstones gathered together. Palo Santo wood sticks to burn.  Two large Ostrich Eggs. A small basket of speckled Birds eggs. An Evergreen Fern. Moss. Blank journals yet to be filled. Antique wine carafes from Shanghai. Two antique teacups and saucers. Cabinets of curiosities. All filled with Love and memories.

Bedside essentials: Zen diffuser and Essential oils (especially Lemon!). Fresh flowers. Candles. Flashlight. Porcelain meditation Bunny (gifted by my Niece). Spiritual books. Prayer books. Art books. Meditation books. The Holy Bible. Soft music and meditations by Sarah Blondin (Insight Timer). Tissues (for laughing, crying, and sneezing), soft linens & PJ’s to sleep in, a cozy blanket and pillows, and most of all, Peace and Quiet and a deep inner Trust that the Universe has your back. xx  

…A reflection upon tiny corners of my world, where I find sources of Inspiration that lead me to that door that always opens, once again.  

Palo Santo: Holy Space. A path that clears. Burn with Intention.

 

 

 

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The Beatles put it so beautifully:

The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear
I’ve seen that road before
It always leads me here
Lead me to your door

The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
Why leave me standing here?
Let me know the way

Many times I’ve been alone
And many times I’ve cried
Anyway you’ll never know
The many ways I’ve tried

And still they lead me back
To the long and winding road
You left me standing here
A long long time ago
Don’t leave me waiting here
Lead me to your door

But still they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long long time ago
Don’t keep me waiting here
Lead me to your door