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REFLECTION: Temple of Spring

21 Mar

Written by Emma Johnson

LISTEN BELOW >>

Reflection: Temple of Spring

Stella Tomlinson

Ritual: Equinox Prayer

REFLECTION: GREETING SPRING

The Wild Circle

Gloucestershire

2022

emma@thewildcircle.space

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In the five years since grief moved into my life, I have never read anything that captures loss as profoundly and accurately as this.

@chimamanda_adichie's Notes on Grief is a small but PERFECTLY formed book, in which Adiche guides us gently, lovin

Remembering all the ways this work makes sense, in a world that has really failed to make any sense already this week.

We gathered to sit in the stillness together, to consider the stories we were told that left us profoundly unprepared for the wor

Very blessed to have had a day reserved for simple things. Like watering the garden, picking tomatoes, arranging flowers from the garden, lighting a candle as the clouds moved in, popping to the pub for a sunny drink with my husband before the school

A snapshot of our day together in the woods. So much goes into these days, practical and logistical, emotional and embodied, spontaneity and soulfulness, finding the right words and the best rituals, and the most eclectic packing list you've ever see

The simplest of late summer joys, and the most exquisite moment of duality. Writing this warmed by the log fire, curled on the sofa, under a blanket, while enjoying the last vase of my garden's late summer bounty. This liminal time we're in now can b

A morning cuppa, on the cosy rug, leaning against the Aga, thinking about what's ahead - absolute almost-Autumn vibes. I made some quite big changes to my working life over the summer and the shape of how that's going to look in the coming months is

When your teacher and mentor, who you now work with running circle training, knows you so well she delivers the most bang-on birthday present ever. @sisterstoriesuk and I have a running joke between us that involves her using a chilli 🌶️ emoji whene

~ our quiet power ~

“Kindness moves through us like sap, like blood, until our limbs rub up against each other, and we remember: We are not one, but part of a sacred grove.” @james.crews.poet

I am still soaking up the inner warmth and