Welcoem to posts!!
in the future - u will be able to do some more stuff here,,,!! like pat catgirl- i mean um yeah... for now u can only see others's posts :c
“Sometimes loving someone means watching them navigate their own wilderness, knowing you can't draw them a map or clear their path. You can only be the campfire they return to when they need rest, offering warmth without demanding they stay, understanding that their journey is their own…”
- Brené Brown
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I need to post more photos of where I live! 🏝️🐢
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Another one! Feathers and seashells 🪶🐚
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A really specific message for someone…(and a potentially collective message at the end):
I keep hearing something about the Algonquin tribe for someone out there. Maybe you already have established roots with this tribe, or maybe you live near or on their lands. Either way, I feel these people and/or this particular land have much to teach you, and are calling out to you/choosing you, for whichever reason. I’m just now hearing “The Wind Cries Mary.” Follow this call if your heart is speaking this to you, or if you have an ancient elder from that tribe/area bringing you messages in the astral realm.
(Edited to add…)
I am hearing there is something that has previously been “under ground,” like a weak and flickering flame of an old and ancient fire within your lineage. Sort of like burning embers… You are the only one that’s been tending to these embers and keeping them alive for a long time now, and you’re getting tired.
This sacred fire represents gifts or medicine still active within your family or cellular DNA. Fire is not only powerful but is also restorative and nutritive to the soil, representing how it feeds your bloodline and earthen legacy. You are not the only one to be carrying this candle or flame for others; your other tribal / family members are meant to carry on this sacred flame, too. And as they start to awaken and remember also (which they are), YOU will be able to finally breathe and blossom into your innate effervescent and effortless beauty - because these burdens are being lifted off your shoulders like a heavy, heavy blanket. So worry not. This fire is being restored by many hands. They ARE remembering. And you and your loved ones will be okay.
Much love! 🌹🪶
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Finished! 🪶
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How it starts and how it ends. 🕸️
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Pink praying mantis 👽💕
(Photo by Marta Albareda)
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Pieces I’ve gathered together from the many dispersed versions of Chief Seattle’s speech:
“How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us. The Great Chief sends word he will reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children. So, we will consider your offer to buy our land. But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us.
Your religion was written upon tablets of stone by the iron finger of your God so that you could not forget. The Red Man could never comprehend or remember it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors — the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hours of the night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people.
Your dead cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb and wander away beyond the stars. They are soon forgotten and never return. Our dead never forget this beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its verdant valleys, its murmuring rivers, its magnificent mountains, sequestered vales and verdant lined lakes and bays, and ever yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely-hearted living, and often return from the happy hunting ground to visit, guide, console, and comfort them.
But why should I mourn at the untimely fate of my people? Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man whose God walked and talked with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We will see.
And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe; and when your children’s children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone.
Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death; only a change of worlds.”
(Photos taken at the Memphis Zoo)
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For your reading, Aries! 😂🔮🍷🙏 We all need a figure like this in our lives!
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If you’re bored this lovely Sunday…this reading was definitely collective! 🌹🤍🌹
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Unlock your heart to free the story of your soul.