Field Notes: How to Moisten a Parched Soul

Raindrops on leaf, front yard, 8/12/14

Part of my passion with my clients is tending to the health and care of their soul. Sometimes this requires energetic attunements and sometimes what the soul needs is more practical, like making time to do the things that truly makes your heart sing.

When our soul is in good shape — bright, radiant and well-fed — all of our life can blossom in beautiful ways.

I know how important the care of the soul is, and how easy it can be to ignore the care of the soul in the face of our busy lives.

I have a strong Jackson work ethic to get things done. Ask my Dad how he is, and you will hear all the things he’s been doing that day. (And he’s retired!)

Of course, I don’t want to stop my drive for making things happen.

But when this drive is not in balance for me, it can show up as overworking, staying up past when my body is tired, not making time to garden, write, move my body, or be with those I love.

When I get “too busy,” I set aside the things that really nourish me on a deep level. My spiritual practices get short-shrift, and I don't feel I have time to just be and breathe.

In these times when I have stopped doing things I love and am so busy I don't have an open day on my calendar, I feel brittle inside and my heart gets uncomfortably tight.

My inner landscape feels like a parched desert, cracking and dusty from lack of rain.

I was listening to a recording of Clarissa Pinkola Estes from her book, Women Who Run With Wolves, last week.

As she talked about what the wild woman needs for survival, Dr. Estes talked about how staying "moist" is essential, how much woman at their core need time to be in their most natural state.

I thought about my own soul and my own heart lately. How there was a strength and a health that felt new.

As I have watered and fed my soul cravings more diligently this year, inwardly I felt more fertile and lush, made supple and moist by my inner tending.

I know that my soul stays moist when I make time to:

• Write or journal regularly
• Be in nature and to garden
• Take photographs of natural beauty I notice
• Read before bed and read for pleasure
• Laugh deeply and with abandon
• Explore and try new things, places and experiences
• Be present to those I love
• Play and connect with Michael and Grace
• Make delicious food
• Hike in the woods
• Sit on the porch swing under the hickory tree in the backyard
• Have time my writing cottage/hermitage
• Sing, dance and listen to music
• Create and make art
• Take a bath
• Have open space with nothing I have to do
• Sit and watch the birds outside

This is my list. And many of these items were not being regularly practiced when my soul felt dehydrated.

Your list will be different, of course. But you also know those things that your soul longs for and withers without.

My recent experience made it clearer than ever how essential it is to keep our souls fed and watered.

I celebrate the how the inner landscape of my soul is feeling lush with growth again, as if green shoots, soft grass and velvet moss now cover the spaces that were barren.

I hope that your soulspace is verdant and fertile and thriving, too.

And if you notice that inwardly you are in a kind of a drought, I suggest taking a few long drinks of whatever fills your heart up.

Tell me, how does the inner landscape of your soul feel? What does your soul need to stay moist?

P.S. Did you see that I'm sending out Messages of Hope? I would love to send one to you — click here for details on how to receive this gift from me to you.