A wild woman takes us to the brooding wilds of South Wales, UK, in her tales and invites us to embrace Nature's Mindfulness. This story began when the Wild Woman met the Green Man, and now we explore the delicious depths:
When the Green Man presents himself as your spirit guide, it is an undeniable experience. His presence is strong, sensual, determined and he carries within an entrancing essence that lures you gradually closer, before devouring you completely. As a matter of course, you resist him at first. The traditional dance of courtship is characterized by flirtatious chasing and flirtatious rebuttal, but eventually, you succumb to his strength of will and helplessly surrender. Opening your heart, body, and soul to this all-encompassing spirit guide, he envelops every part of your waking and dreaming world. There was a time when he influenced my writing, infusing my subconscious thought with ancestral memories of ritual and ceremony. Of summer harvests and circle dancing, and of the ladies that placed budding flowers in their hair. He regularly encroached on my meditation practice, leading me through enchanted woodlands and stripping me of all that I once was. My liberator, my champion, revering his Goddess as I bestrode naked, in my truest expression.
I recall one such meeting during meditation quite vividly. Slipping into a meditative state of bliss, I found myself walking across a vast, open green field. It was a hot summer's day and my attention was drawn to the nearby hill and to the snaking trail forged out of tractor wheels and machinery that journeyed deep into an expansive forest stretching out for miles across the distant high ground. My skin burned and I longed to seek refuge under the canopy of the shaded trees, and so yielding to my intuition and the foreboding sense that I should follow this path, I made my way towards the entrance of the forest.
A slight breeze ushered me through a wide opening between the trees and I simultaneously felt a wave of fear and anticipation, the goosebumps rising high on the back of my neck. I closed my cardigan tighter and cradled my body as I proceeded forwards, breathing in the petrichor scent of the damp understory and moss-covered floor.
I stepped beyond the muddy trail and onto a narrow, natural footpath that weaved between the grand trees. It was flanked either side by fanning ferns and over grown cooch grass, which tickled slightly as it brushed against my naked legs. I wondered what animals might have made this path their passageway to the outside world? Skittish Deer fleeing from perceived danger, foraging foxes or erratic squirrels harvesting their fodder... I hoped I wasn't encroaching on a space I did not belong in.
I walked on and looked around at the diverse woodlands. The trees huddled closely; friends as thick as thieves using their leaves to encase the varying sounds of the woodland. I wondered if it was deliberate? Did the old broadleaved trees of Oak and Sweet Chestnut conspire to keep their home sacred? To hide their gems of abundance and offering from human intervention? I felt a sensation of excitement brewing in my stomach as ancient magic reached into my body, pulling me onwards from the solar plexus chakra. The energy of the trees felt warm and inviting - fortunately it seemed I was a welcomed guest.
I decided to rest at the foot of an aged Oak tree and leaned the back of my head against the thick bark encasing its trunk. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds of this sacred forest. The faint creaking as the nearby cluster of evergreen trees - Pine and Spruce - moved in the breeze, their tall trunks swaying hypnotically high above the canopy. Birds twittered excitedly with the movement of the trees and a lone raven began to gurgle in the branches above my head.
I stayed there for a while, sinking further into my surroundings, listening keenly. I heard the small bugs that traversed the discarded foliage surrounding my sit-spot, and the occasional leaf dropping from great heights, its clumsy, tumbling and freefalling journey echoing through the forest, amplifying the near silence of the private sanctuary. I breathed deeply and smiled in contentment, feeling the expansion of my heart space, green and burgeoning from the mindfulness of such sacred, love-filled connection… and in the midst of my grounding, I knew that I was no longer alone.
I sensed him first as a warm glow, like the flicker of a naked flame dancing before my face, and I opened my eyes to streams of aureate light filtering through the trees. A golden hue descended upon the forest, highlighting the particles and fireflies that hung in the air like the sprinkling of Fae magic. I was once again visited by the ripples of fear and anticipation as a breeze picked up, whipping up the remnants of twigs and dried foliage from the previous seasons. They twirled and spiralled before me and in amongst the luminescent chaos I thought I saw the shape of a man. Tall, masculine with illuminating sunrays protruding from the beating lifeforce within his chest. I felt my heart rate rise and my breath quicken for I knew it was he; my Golden Sun King.
He moved purposeful and sudden, in the blink of an eye neither here nor there. A flash of blonde light, a mysterious shadow. What did he want with me? Where would he lead us? Like a game of cat and mouse, he always knew how to toy with his Wild Woman.
He led me deeper into the golden realm of vibrant colours and glossy plant life. Where the trees bent and branches trailed and a lyrical wisdom permeated the space between present and past. Sweeping ivy spiralled and curved, encircling tree trunks akin to the roaming energy that encased my Celtic soul and my own heartfelt connection surged deeper. To the boughs that reached out, as if to beckon us nearer with thick stems and gnarly fingers, pointing us towards the majestic waterfall at the centre of the forest.
The gentle roar of the water became louder with every step. A rising crescendo that engulfed the sacred realm.
Forging us ever closer to Source and to an overwhelming sense of Oneness.
A merging of two souls, naked and writhing, at the foot of the rushing waterfall. His blinding ethereal light piercing my pastel pink aura and the light of my own essence reflecting back from every pore, obscuring his earthy features. I felt the reeds slowly lace around my wrists, capturing me, bound and wanton beside the flowing stream, which glistened under the glare of our adjoining Divine light. Expertise fingers and kneading knuckles, he took my breath away as he thrust me back to life.
I, the Wild Woman; He, the Green Man.
This story began when the Wild Woman met the Green Man, and inspired us to enkindle our own respective spiritual guide - find the "Step-by-Step Guide" in the next Column.
MEET THE WILD WOMAN:
Jemma Louise Hunt is a poetic writer from South Wales, UK. She guides others in the art of Nature Connection, using the power of descriptive storytelling, poetry, and mindful invitations. Connect with her on Instagram @tales_fromawildwoman and share your own experiences using the exercises in this column. © Original Photos by the Author.