Excerpt from upcoming book, Dancing with Nemetona

From Lady of Boundaries and Edges Chapter…

Opening our nemeton requires a level of ability and trust.  We close ourselves off on so many levels each and every day simply because of the sensory overload that we are exposed to through people, media and more.  We have so many demands on our life that if a stranger came up to us in need after a hectic day, we may shut ourselves off completely from them and not provide the help that they might need, however simple and genuine their request may be.  Our cat may come to us for a cuddle, and we don’t even notice as we are too busy distracting ourselves with television and high fat food.  We switch off constantly, and we must relearn how not to do this, and instead be aware and mindful of our nemeton and how it interacts with others.

I am writing on the computer upstairs, my fingers clacking the keyboard in the late evening sunshine.  I vaguely hear my husband’s car as he drives down the street and into the driveway.  Absorbed in my work, I don’t really hear the front door opening.  He shouts “Hello!” as he enters – I mumble something incoherently as I try to keep my train of thought and the words spreading out onto the white computer screen in front of me.  He comes up the stairs and I don’t even hear that.  He enters the room, kissing my right cheek, then my left.  His nemeton extends to wrap itself around me.  And yet I withdraw, fully engaged in writing, and my nemeton snapping shut.  He kisses the right side of my neck, then the left, and I am barely able to refrain from sighing aloud in frustration as I need to finish this piece.  My nemeton, unbeknownst to me now, sends sparks of shooting energy, pushing him away. He kisses me once more, I cannot even remember where now, and then goes to sit on the bed where the cat has come in to greet him. I continue typing, getting it out, needing a last little bit of concentration. I have no knowledge yet of how I have dishonoured him and myself, and even the cat. 

As he sits on the bed and fusses the cat, I turn around and see his nemeton, a little wounded, withdrawn around his chest.  But as he scratches the cat, and sees the bliss on her face, his soul opens to her little soul and once again his nemeton is where it should be, open and joyous in his own home.  I apologise and stop typing, coming over to sit within his arms while together we stroke the cat and share in the embrace of Nemetona.

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