I walk the land.
and rest my arms
around the grandmother tree
in her embrace
my breath deepens,
my body remembers
a place of calm.

On the ridge, something ancient stirs
a remembering,
a sense of deep time,
of belonging…

Years ago, I created a spiral in a hidden valley on the land — a path to walk inward toward stillness, and outward toward renewal.

There is surrender. There is stillness. Something breaks open. Something softens.

This is a story of the gentle power of walking inward to move forward.

After losing a very dear friend,
I am holding on
to the moments I had,
wishing
they could last forever.

I don’t yet know
 how to turn these moments
into memories
but am learning
that grief
asks for presence….

She stands strong,

ancient, breathing,

Flowering,

as she does each year,

has done for years,

and years,

and years.

The space around her,

this massive tree,

feels sacred…

“ The heart that beeaks open can hold the whole universe” Joanna Maci

When I first encountered Joanna Macy’s work, I was already walking alongside disaster-impacted communities, supporting people through loss and change, and helping to build grief literacy. I thought I understood grief.

This morning, Banjo — my beautiful old dog — takes me for a walk on our land. We move slowly, climbing a gentle hill that opens out to wide mountain ranges and flowering angophoras…….