Animal, vegetable, mineral instinct

Sorry about the delay- we got busy preparing for the New England Folk Festival and related visits, but now I'm back. Last Wednesday we drove to Boston, staying in Brookline with good friends Michael and Lizbeth, and dining Weds. with our friend the wonderful violin dealer Reggie Williams. Thursday was spent visiting my old alma mater, Boston University's College of Fine Arts, and bending the knee at the Haynes Flute Company. Friday we headed further south, our ultimate destination Mansfield, Mass. and the New England Folk Festival.

Before diving into the musical weekend, we took a brief detour to the Attleboro/Seekonk line to visit one of my former sacred places, Seven Arrows Herb Farm. This was not a carefully considered and planned trip; I just knew it was a necessary stop, and so we made the trip with no plans or expectations other than simply to see it. But the moment I stepped from the car in the shaded parking lot I knew I had been following an inner compulsion that was part of a larger experience I'd been having ever since leaving Tam Lin on Wednesday. Again and again my instinct had been taking me over familiar territory of my past, where I could view old scenes with new eyes. Seven Arrows was an oasis of sorts, as it had been 15 and more years ago when I lived and taught in Mansfield. Here was where I first recognized and named my deep, life-long connection to the natural world, here was where I connected with wise, kind and yes, fun teachers and friends who looked at gardening as a spiritual practice, here was where I was invited to lead a monthly song circle and thus discovered my ability to draw out the singing voices of others.

After pausing to look around, breathe and smile, I tentatively stepped inside the shop. At first I recognized no one, but a kind member of the staff, Linda, offered to look for Mich and Judy, the proprietors. The next thing I heard and saw was Judy's delighted face and voice and enveloping arms: "Allison!!" The next half hour was a joyful reunion, catching each other up on 15 years and watching Hunt and Judy get acquainted. We then walked around, soaked up the wonderful vibrations of the place, chatted with Mich, bought their book, and headed to Mansfield and another trip down memory lane (for another musing).



This visit had enormous impact, not only for the sense that I was gathering in fragments that had been dangling for nearly 15 years, bringing them full circle to experience a new wholeness, but also for the awareness that once again, instinct had led me to this place in such a matter-of-fact way that it felt fluid, complete. Again and again in my life I have felt a "knowing", or a "leading", telling me "this is the way, walk in it" (Isaiah 30:21). Following this instinct feels like the most natural thing in the world. It comes in the little and big decisions, and I never feel any fear or anxiety when I act according to it, knowing in my deepest heart that it is the way I should go.

I think we all have access to this inner wisdom- it just requires paying attention and sometimes taking a leap of faith. I've met many people, often women and young girls (usually it starts around the age of 9 or so and never leaves them) who have no sense of trusting their inner voice. They are so anxious to please, to serve, to meet some kind of standard imposed on them, that they have shut off that inner hearing. I suppose men have this, too, but I haven't known as many men with this lack of trust in themselves. I certainly had it, but even in my youth I remember the times when I KNEW what choices to make, where to go, what to do. When I lost my scholarship to the college I thought I wanted to attend, and knew I needed to travel around France and the UK instead. When it was time to leave my teaching job in Mansfield and look for right livelihood elsewhere (which turned out to be Keene, one of the best moves I ever made). When I offered to jump on an airplane to Atlanta, to meet a "total stranger" (the quotes are because in the short time we'd been talking on the phone I knew Hunt more deeply than anyone I'd ever met). These are just some examples of the way instinct has guided me.

I know, I know. There are those who will read this and give instinct another name, with Divine qualities. Of course, you are absolutely right, but so am I! Bear with me; blog post by blog post I'll get there (assuming there is a "there" there...). But for now, thanks be to instinct, and grant that I may have the wisdom, patience, awareness, mindfulness and courage to continue to follow it!

And now, I'm going to sit on the land and let it guide me towards this season's first plantings in the garden!