Going to document these winter months through #100outdoordays over on Instagram. I’ve posted the first few main grid photos on this page, theres also more over my Instastories. I’ll post some as separate pieces on this blog, if you want to see them all hope over to Instagram: @sophiemckeand_outsider
life on two wheels with this guys is just 💙
For obvious reasons we made the decision not to visit any people on this tour of Cymru, and although we’ll miss that side of travelling, we’ll be spending more time with our inter-species community.
Grey heron has been with us almost constantly since returning to Cymru, haunting the riverbanks of our hikes and swims.
Grey heron flew large into last night’s dream, but when I reached out he became two-dimensional, the paper on which he existed tore, his neck snapped.
This shocked me awake.
Later I realise that he brings a warning about the power of dimensions, an understanding that I might share these experiences in these squares, in two-dimensional form, but if I become too attached to ‘documentation over experience’ the connection with nature will be broken.
I thank this family member for offering deep wisdom, honour this knowing with ceremony and words. #100outdoordays #greyheron
F O R T U N E T E L L I N G
There’s something so beautifully expansive about sand dunes … they way they swarm like bees against coastlines, or dissipate like morning fog. As we travel we meet sand dunes that are a galloping herd of dun horses, or like the massive Dune du Pilat we visited in France, growing in size and vigour each year. Sand dune energy, even when slow-rolling and moss-covered like the ones we walked with today, is a reminder to widen our focus, to open our hearts and pour out trust that these great spirits know this earth, know where they belong – it is only our role to support these epic ancestors’ migrations across the earth, not prevent the creation of new dreams.
I was reminded today of a poem I wrote a few years ago about this, so here it is (first appeared in Rebel Sun poetry collection).
S W I M 💙💦🥶
During this morning’s silent advent with @workingsilence https://instagram.com/workingsilence?igshid=o07qhoh5pccx
I was asked:
‘What is the place you are in longing for?’
‘What are you longing for?’
I let these questions wash through me like a rising tide, and the answer for myself and from the land were the same:
To honour and be honoured
One of the things I love most about living in a van is that, even on days when I feel emotionally and physically drained to the point I don’t want to fuction, I can sit for hours with a view like this…
There’s two ways to look at this – a very short outdoor moment, or the fact that living in a van means being connected to nature all of the time.
I was woken at 5am by driving rain and winds hurtling themselves against the side of the van. Perhaps some might find this disconcerting but honestly I think it’s epic. There’s something quite beautiful about being able to open your doors (and heart) to nature at any moment, because of course, we don’t live in a van, we live out of one.
A stone called to me today from the beach to meditate on it. But it was unbelievably windy, the back door on the van had seized shut and we’ve had to change our plans in order to get it fixed.
What this tells me is that I’m human, but also that these connections are strong. Meditating on a stone at a later date of my choosing won’t be the same, because I held that connection in the mind for a brief moment and made the choice to pass it by.
There will be others I take, and refuse; the important thing is the noticing, the important thing is that I remain determined to carve out time to feel these connections. The important thing is that I make sacred what I pay attention to; that I allow myself to experience the subtle joy of being.
There’s something so completely magical about water – we cannot live without it, it falls from rolling clouds, and is the perpetual ocean wave. Tides mark the time, yet water is timeless, and when we die all the waters in us leak back out into the great unknown ocean. Water pools effortlessly, everywhere and no matter how hard we work to master her, water always finds a return to source.