Monday Meditation ~ Linden Blossom for Lightness of Heart and Ease of the Soul

Linden Blossom Meditation ~ for Lightness of Heart and Ease of The Soul

Background

Linden trees (also known confusingly as lime trees despite not being a
citrus) are among some of the longer lived native trees, some
rivalling yews in reaching vast ages. There are two main species to
be encountered in the UK, one of which has been extensively planted
as an avenue tree as it grows relatively fast and is tall and very
straight. They’re also one of my personal favourite trees.

Linden blossom is one of the most lovely scents of early summer, blooming from mid June to early July; the flowers produce vast amounts of nectar and the honey made by bees foraging in an area where linden grows is exquisite.

The wood itself is a favourite of woodcarvers, being close grained and
light in colour and the bark has also been used to produce cloth. The
fresh leaves have been used in baths to calm feverish children.

But it is the flowers that have the most pleasing uses. A tea made with linden blossom is light and delicate and can help with insomnia, and with nervous tension. An essential oil is also produced so that the
heavenly scent is available all year round and though this is
expensive, it is also available at a reasonable price diluted in
coconut oil or similar

For this meditation I suggest you use either some fresh flowers if they
are available, a drop of the essential oil, or a cup of freshly
brewed linden blossom tea.  

Go through your usual grounding and centring techniques and when you are ready, take a breath of the scent and hold it in your mind. Let the scent fill your thoughts and feelings and when you are sure you have the scent, you may begin.

 

Meditation

You are standing at the end of a long avenue of lime trees that stand
like columns of emerald green, shimmering as the soft summer breeze shakes the leaves. With the breeze comes the fragrance of the
flowers, light and very sweet without being heavy or sickly. It’s a
warm day but as you look around you can see that clouds have come
over and you feel the first drops of rain falling on your arm. The
ground beneath your feet is somewhat cracked as if this is the first
rain in a long while and the grass under the trees is going yellow
from dryness.

Start to walk along the avenue, but take it slowly. The rain is soft and
refreshing and seems to bring out the heavenly scent even more
beautifully. There are birds singing, and the whole place seems to be
quiet and deserted. The avenue is long and you are enclosed by the
towering trees so that you are walking in a lovely filtered green
light, a little like being under the sea. The sensation of being
bathed in green is relaxing and you feel tensions slip away as you
walk and breathe in the delightful aroma of linden flowers.

When you get to the end of the avenue the trees open out and form a circle; the clearing in the middle of this circle contains a small
building. It’s a little summer house, painted white and it has open
sides so that you can sit inside it and be sheltered from the rain.
All around the summer house are planted shrubs and plants which have large leaves, some like great hands of greenery. You notice as you cross the space between the avenue and the summer house that the rain has become heavy and almost torrential so you run a little so that you get to the wide shallow steps of the building and under the
protection of the roof.

Inside there are refreshments laid out for you to enjoy and a wickerwork sofa covered with soft cushions is very inviting. It feels like a very special sort of sanctuary, and someone has spent time choosing things that will appeal to you and you alone. The refreshments are covered with a crisp white linen cloth and if you wish to you can go and see what is there for you.

When you have made your selection and eaten and drunk what you have chosen come and sit down on the sofa. It feels perfectly comfortable, soft but supportive and as you lean back or curl up, the warm wind brings with it  moist air laden with the scent of the linden flowers. The rain is drumming a steady rhythm on the roof, and the music it makes as it falls onto the leaves of the plants is so soothing that you let yourself fall into a reverie or a daydream. You are in a loving place, a space where everything is meant for you and is therefore the safest place in the world. Allow your mind to wander and follow dreams and visions, while you sit in this little sanctuary and enjoy the sound of the summer rain and the scents from the trees outside.

*

It’s time to leave now. The rain has stopped and there is brilliant
sunshine warming the flowers and coaxing more scent out; bees are
starting to return and begin their foraging among the linden
blossoms. The avenue as you walk down it seems to hum with life and with renewed energy and inner strength. You feel renewed and blessed yourself and as you return to the start of the avenue, let yourself remember any of those daydreams and visions. Some of them may be things you may want to do in real life.

You’ve come back to where you started now. Allow the sense of peace and renewal remain with you as you return. The lightness of heart and soul will stay with you but you can always return another time if you need to.

Make sure that you ground yourself fully before resuming normal activitiy.

Written as a part of the Meditating with Aromatics interactive project.

Time to Heal?

 

Time to Heal?

I have been a great fan of Terry Pratchett for many years and have been deeply moved by some of his novels. While they are generally hysterically funny, they also contain some quite profound wisdom.

One of my favourites is Masquerade, one of the series of novels written about the witches of the Ramtops, a coven of extraordinary women, lead by the inimitable Granny Weatherwax. Esme Weatherwax is a force of nature, someone you want on your side, and not someone to cross lightly. In Masquerade, she performs a feat of magic, or so people think, by catching a sharp sword in her bare hand without being cut to the bone by it. The following comes from two passages very close to the end of the book; the first she is discussing events with her oldest (and best) friend Gytha(Nanny) Ogg:

‘Everyone was very impressed, I reckon, when you caught that sword in your hand. . .’

Granny sighed. ‘Hah! Yes, I expect they were. They didn’t think clearly, did they? People’re just lazy. They never think: maybe she had something in her hand, a bit of metal or something. They don’t think for a minute it was just a trick. They don’t think there’s always a perfectly good explanation if you look for it. They probably think it was some kind ofmagic.’

‘Yeah, but. . . you didn’t have anything in your hand, did you?’

‘That’s not the point. I might have done.’ Granny looked up and down the square. ‘Besides, you can’t magic iron.

‘That’s very true. Not iron. Now, someone like ole Black Aliss, they

could make their skin tougher than steel. . . but that’s just an ole

legend, I expect. . .’

‘She could do it all right,’ said Granny. ‘But you can’t go round messin’ with cause and effect. That’s what sent her mad, come the finish. She thought she could put herself outside of things like cause and effect.Well, you can’t. You grab a sharp sword by the blade, you get hurt.World’d be a terrible place if people forgot that.’

‘You weren’t hurt.’

‘Not my fault. I didn’t have time.’”

*

 

 

The trees were bare when Granny Weatherwax got back to her cottage.

Twigs and seeds had blown in under the door. Soot had fallen down the chimney. Her home, always somewhat organic, had grown a little closer to its roots in the clay.

There were things to do, so she did them. There were leaves to be swept, and the woodpile to be built up under the eaves. The windsock behind the beehives, tattered by autumn storms, needed to be darned. Hay had to begot in for the goats. Apples had to be stored in the loft. The walls could do with another coat of whitewash.

But there was something that had to be done first. It’d make the other jobs a bit more difficult, but there was no help for that. You couldn’t magic iron. And you couldn’t grab a sword without being hurt. If that wasn’t true, the world’d be all over the place.

Granny made herself some tea, and then boiled up the kettle again. She took a handful of herbs out of a box on the dresser, and dropped them in a bowl with the steaming water. She took a length of clean bandage out of a drawer and set it carefully on the table beside the bowl. She threaded an extremely sharp needle and laid needle and thread beside the bandage.

She scooped a fingerful of greenish ointment out of a small tin, and smeared it on a square of lint.

That seemed to be it.

She sat down, and rested her arm on the table, palm-up.

‘Well,’ she said, to no one in particular, ‘I reckon I’ve got time now.’”

(Masquerade by Terry Pratchett)

How often have we done the same feat but without swords and magic and put off dealing with wounds?

I have.

I do it all the time and one of the reasons is because I lack the skills to mend myself, the way Granny stitches up her own hand without flinching. So the wounds go untreated and they fester until a greater surgery is needed and I need open-hearted surgery.

At the moment I am thinking(and talking about, especially with J) very deeply about a form of healing that does away with so many of the things we think are essential to the healing process, like the line between patient and therapist and the rigid following of guidelines that had become Holy Writ.

I’ll keep you all posted.