Being independent or being inter-dependent?

http://www.adrianasjanbijman.co.uk

It might be that coming month Scotland, ‘my’ country — as I live here— goes independent. And maybe not. With joy I received my poll card for The Scottish Independence Referendum

It feels as such an honour to vote for this on the 18^th of September: the choice of independence for a country, without any war needing to be fought first. Having the choice of voting ‘Yes’ or voting ‘No’. The Referendum brings up lots of discussion, also in our Findhorn Foundation Community and I think this to be very positively, whatever the outcome will be. A neighbour’s window, which says: “Hope not fear, Dare to vote Yes”, makes me smile every time I pass it.

I just learned that it is not Scotland’s first attempt to be independent; the oldest surviving document about this fact is from 1320 when the Scots issued a ‘declaration of independence’ to be freed from English aggression and its dominating power and become its own sovereignty. Not far away from Findhorn lies Culloden Battlefield, which is an old wound in the country’s history. But personally I feel this independence moves away from the past and has all to do with wishing to decide its own future, more than Hollyrood (where the Scottish government resides) can do now.

This all reminds me of my own and our inter-dependence. I live alone and although I am not depending on a special relationship and as such could be called ‘an independent woman’ in the traditional sense, in the modern sense I am as inter-dependent as anybody else, as a human being. We all are depending, in the first place on nature, on the Earth.  But we are also depending on our friends, in a light —hopefully healthy— way, as they are depending on us. I am inter-dependent of my customers, friends and acquaintances, people who already know my graphic and photo work, who for instance ask me to do some design work for their business or who buy some notebooks from my studio or a photo book from the online web shop…. We serve each other.

So, if it will be a ‘Yes’, may we become neighbours who service each other well, who realise they are inter-dependent, both part of Europe.

The pictures I chose are about the interdependence in nature like between this intertwined group of cactuses in Jujuy in the north of Argentina.

August 2014, photo and text © Adriana Sjan Bijman

Day and Night, Dark and Light

Tree blossoms at Findhorn - Dark & Light

We’re living the longest days of the year here in the northern hemisphere. The nights feel too short to rest from the at times overwhelming intensity of the light. Some friends have put up extra curtains to be able to sleep in the dark.  A song, well known here in our community, says, “Be still and know that day and night, that dark and light, are one holy circle.”

During these two weeks three community members left their body to rise into the realm of the Light. Well, after a challenging end in the physical, I believe that’s where they’ll be going. To the Light.

For this month’s entry of my Light Scribble I chose an image of young trees still in blossom in my garden against a dark background, a play of dark and light. 

The Mother, in one of her guided messages about white flowers tells us in ‘The Spiritual Significance of Flowers’ that “white light is the light of the Divine Consciousness in its essence. In this white light all other lights are contained and from it they can be manifested, for this reason white also indicates integrality, completeness and totality, especially the integrality of the being in all its parts, from the physical being to the true self.”

So take a deep breath. Inhale the light. Let the white flowers enter our heart and trust their light will shine on the darkness. 
To know this brightens my day.

© photo and text: © Adriana Sjan Bijman, June 2014

The divine and devil in ‘El Pico del Teide’

For the third time I visited ‘el Teide’, the most important volcano on the ocean island Tenerife. This May I came from the south of the island, which is said to have  been a desert for millennia.  Again El Pico del Teide —the Teide Peak— impressed me with its bare moon-like landscape. The soil seems fresh erupted ‘black lava’ of hard rock fragments; on other places it is covered with gentle hills of cream coloured sand dust, which actually is volcanic ash.  Like what came down from Iceland some years ago, remember? Nothing grows on it. Its earth seems as dead as the native aboriginal people the Guanches, who lived on the islands until the Spanish conquerors arrived at the end of the 15^th century. The Guanches believed in the mythology of the Teide and many legends survived, telling us of its divine legacy. It was thought the Teide held the most devilish forces in its crater. Personally I can understand some of that, as a decade ago our suspicious German workshop leader felt drawn to jump into the crater, believing we all would be saved by extraterrestrials. Tenerife is known for its UFO connection. So glad the jump was prevented by the local police!

Nowadays the island lives off the more attractive energies of tourism and the banana export. You see their polytunnels everywhere. Like the native Canary Pine tree the residents have adapted to live off what the land can offer — or they moved away. The abundantly growing pine tree is fire resistant, from blackened trunks they simply rise again into the green. They possess an amazing water-collecting system in their leaves to survive the long periods of drought. It only rains 14 days a year. What a difference with Scotland! We enjoyed the sunshine and warm breezes that cooled down the island. Thank you,  beautiful island of Tenerife!

© text and photo: Adriana Sjan Bijman 

A pilgrimage walk at Skye

I went to the Isle of Skye for some days and once again the immense beauty of Scottish nature totally positively overwhelmed me. The lochs. The seas. The moors. The ancient mountains rocking. Streams and waterfalls replenishing me through eyes, ears and skin. Rusty ferns on gentle hills holding us all.

I walked my own little pilgrimage walk, meeting the many wonderful colourful faces of God. Gratitude for eyes to see; for a heart to open.

I am sure about it: God speaks to me, not  only in words, but in images. Thank You!