As a young girl, I would escape my house that often felt tight and dark, and spent as much time as possible outside. Because we lived on some magical land: it had a small stream, privately owned woods, and bordered the state game lands.
The possibilities were endless.
Reading on a blanket in the grass.
Wading in the stream with silty grittiness between my toes.
Breathing in the sun on my face.
Dancing down the dirt lane in the rain, mud splashed up to my knees.
Drinking from an ice-cold spring, while avoiding notice of the snakes that lived there.
I developed systems for getting to the blackberries, past the thorns.
I knew exactly how far I could go before I could no longer hear my mother’s call.
I created an intricate, vast, detailed fairyland, and lived there as often as possible.
There was even this bush that grew in such a way that it had a shelter inside – a small hole of hidings where I could feel alone in the world.
As I grew, time in nature became more of a luxury than an escape. Mosquitoes find me tasty, and bugs of various natures began to be repulsive, rather than interesting. Mud made a mess, and that mess was my responsibility, among many more responsibilities.
The weight of those responsibilities caught up with me in recent years. Motherhood, house care, being self-employed, all areas where I just felt incomplete.
I longed for the easy access to nature that my youth had allowed.
I searched my new home for spaces that allowed me to have just a fraction of the peace and serenity I’d found on that magical land.
I found a few small samples of woods where I could go and breath in the air purified by many, many trees. I smelled the damp, and the mossy.
Even there, I longed to take off my shoes and find some mud.
The healing abilities of nature are just beginning to be explored by modern medicine, but for those of us who feel the call of the woods, we need no proof.
Our spirit needs it’s natural home. It needs ripples of water, crashing of waves, sand and silt between our toes. It needs our sacred space of sun and rain.
Our bones ache with the need to feel the ground beneath our bare feet. They need the scrapes and bites and intricate dance of sun and leaf on our skin.
Our Spirit and Bone need our sacred space.
Join me this summer, in a special collaborative effort.
Carrie Hilgert has inspired a phenomenal group of female photographers to bring together women and their sacred spaces to create healing and connection, Spirit and Bone, Nature and Healing: and capture that on camera.
Across the country, women are making connections to this brilliant idea, concept, and finding photography artists to help them create magic.
From Kansas to New York, Oregon to Texas, we have created a network to capture women in nature, and create a healing experience like no other.
Calling all wild women to Spirit and Bone.
Each Spirit and Bone session is unique, but has these things in common:
$200 session fee
At least 25 digital image files.
2 hours of time with me, on location
Images captured of you in your sacred space.
A healing, creative, collaboration, including but not limited to:
A Spirit Walk.
A Soul Talk.
An opportunity to tell your story.
If you feel called, here is how you can register:
(other times available. email me at Lani.LHP@gmail.com for more.)