After days of storms I came down to the river. To the place where I sit and listen and sing.
Uprooted trees are strewn all around and the long grass lies flat, combed by the current that must have got that high in recent days.
Golden scales of a marooned fish glisten from the smooth wet mud. My feet leave deep hollows.
The little pathways - animal tracks and gaps between plants - which I have followed to the river again and again are nowhere to be seen and I make a new way through.
The river is so high that the place I sit has vanished under rushing brown water.
There is a new landscape now. Battered and washed through. A wider sky where trees used to be. I was only here a week ago and in that time it has changed so much.
The river is so much faster and louder. It stirs my blood to see and hear it.
I notice feeling taken aback, surprised how much and how quickly things can change. Also a sort of grief at the loss of something familiar which I loved. I hadn’t realised I had loved it in that narrow way. On the condition that it stayed the same in some basic way.
I stand as a wider love comes through. Love that accommodates the wreckage of a storm.
My shoulders relax and my face softens as I remember that this is what landscapes do, they are changing all the time. The elements come together and fall apart in big and small ways. Before our eyes, the familiar becomes unfamiliar.
Sometimes what we love changes beyond recognition.
Sometimes things vanish completely.
Sometimes new things appear as if out of nowhere.
We can feel like a fish out of water, or that we have no roots anymore. Washed out and swept off our feet.
Caught in a tight and tangled mess like a thicket of twigs and a plastic bag wrapped around a tree trunk.
So I do what comes next. I stand at the edge of the water and I sing a song that is here, and I move, and I listen. I find myself loving the thick fresh mud, the flattened grass, the golden scales, the tumultuous waters, the jarring angles of entangled branches, the exposed roots of upturned trees, and the rush of the water as it passes by me on its way from the mountains to the sea.
Simply Sparkling Pearly Whites...
'What is a more earth friendly way I can keep my teeth clean and healthy?' This thought comes around again and again and finally I acted.
So there is definitely a more earth friendly way, like maybe not eating any sugar and chewing twigs after every meal. But for now, my willingness has extended to coconut oil, bicarbonate of soda and peppermint oil.
I like it more than using the eco-friendly toothpaste I have been using for years.
Through overheard tips, and reading toothpaste ingredients I am happy to have found a teeth cleaning routine that is much more than satisfactory in all ways so far. It is still an experiment.
So far my findings are...
- There is much less plastic waste
- Concocting potions is fun
- Brushing my teeth now feels like a sacred ritual...I kid you not.
- My mouth feels so fresh and clean.
- It is really cheap!
I have yet to try actually making toothpaste, because I am so happy with the method I have found.
First I put a teaspoonful of coconut oil in my mouth and swill it round for 20 minutes. This is very supportive of my morning writing practice which now flourishes in coconut oil time.
I dust some bicarbonate of soda on my bamboo toothbrush, then drip a couple of drops of peppermint oil on, then I brush my teeth with it. Finally I use the Indian silver tongue scraper, gifted by a friend.
Another way would be to mix these ingredients together to make a paste and keep it in a jar as a ready made toothpaste. But then when would writing happen!
Happy brushing friends!