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Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Tree hugging for novices
Your thin end for today:
When my kids were small, Reg tried to get them into hugging trees. I don't remember hugging trees when I was a pre-schooler so I don't know whether this introduction to grounding was given to me when I was their age or not, but suffice to say he tried to teach my kids. I think Heather took to it ok, but being the precocious tart she was even back then if she did think it was weird she probably put it down to grandparent foibles and didn't think too much of it. Adam, however was a completely different story. He just couldn't get with the whole hug-a-tree thing. He as much as said he considered hugging trees was way strange. Sometimes I look at him and think "where the hell did HE come from??" and yet at other times he is right into all the spooky-possum stuff, the Gypsy cards and candles and herbal remedies (he really likes my new Gothic jewellery and my whip... yes sir, that's my baby).
A few years ago (December 2001, to be precise), I decided that, as a present to myself for working so hard at polytech and graduating again, I would buy myself something from the local gemshop. They have all sorts of crystals and gemstones there for all manner of healing requirements (yes, they even work for people who don't believe in it). Anyway, this is what I bought;
It's about 5 inches diameter, 900 grams (2.2 pounds) of rainbow obsidian, black as night apart from a dark forest green circular swirl (like the iris of an eye) which runs right through the centre of the ball and it cost me $180. I still love it. It was always known as the Orb until the first Lord of the Rings movie came out and then the kids renamed it "Mum's Palantir". They both say they want it when I die. Sweet babies, the pair of them.
Anyway, getting back to the trees, I seldom hug a tree (although I probably should) but I love the sound of the wind in them (so like the waves, maybe?) and the creak and slap of the giant bamboo out the front swaying 30 feet above the ground.
We had a large Melia tree that Mum planted many years ago that fell down in a storm last spring. I really miss it; I used to sit in my chair in the lounge when there was a full moon and watch the skeleton of the tree outlined against the brightness. Once night Shari and I watched a possum roaming around in silhouette before we scared the shit out of it and it fell out and ran away.
Now we are going to plant a big blue mountain cedar in there for the kids to hang decorations on and light up for Christmas. Shame it is too prickly to hug, though.
I think Mum will approve.
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When my kids were small, Reg tried to get them into hugging trees. I don't remember hugging trees when I was a pre-schooler so I don't know whether this introduction to grounding was given to me when I was their age or not, but suffice to say he tried to teach my kids. I think Heather took to it ok, but being the precocious tart she was even back then if she did think it was weird she probably put it down to grandparent foibles and didn't think too much of it. Adam, however was a completely different story. He just couldn't get with the whole hug-a-tree thing. He as much as said he considered hugging trees was way strange. Sometimes I look at him and think "where the hell did HE come from??" and yet at other times he is right into all the spooky-possum stuff, the Gypsy cards and candles and herbal remedies (he really likes my new Gothic jewellery and my whip... yes sir, that's my baby).
A few years ago (December 2001, to be precise), I decided that, as a present to myself for working so hard at polytech and graduating again, I would buy myself something from the local gemshop. They have all sorts of crystals and gemstones there for all manner of healing requirements (yes, they even work for people who don't believe in it). Anyway, this is what I bought;
It's about 5 inches diameter, 900 grams (2.2 pounds) of rainbow obsidian, black as night apart from a dark forest green circular swirl (like the iris of an eye) which runs right through the centre of the ball and it cost me $180. I still love it. It was always known as the Orb until the first Lord of the Rings movie came out and then the kids renamed it "Mum's Palantir". They both say they want it when I die. Sweet babies, the pair of them.
Anyway, getting back to the trees, I seldom hug a tree (although I probably should) but I love the sound of the wind in them (so like the waves, maybe?) and the creak and slap of the giant bamboo out the front swaying 30 feet above the ground.
We had a large Melia tree that Mum planted many years ago that fell down in a storm last spring. I really miss it; I used to sit in my chair in the lounge when there was a full moon and watch the skeleton of the tree outlined against the brightness. Once night Shari and I watched a possum roaming around in silhouette before we scared the shit out of it and it fell out and ran away.
Now we are going to plant a big blue mountain cedar in there for the kids to hang decorations on and light up for Christmas. Shame it is too prickly to hug, though.
I think Mum will approve.
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