breathofgreenair

Fairytale Towers

Posted on October 8, 2013 by greenmackenzie

Four spires of Istanbuls Blue Mosque

Fairy tales are full of slender towers of white marble piercing cloud filled skies. The lofty height of the spires sweeps our imagination up and away from the mundane world and into the creative space of dreams and stories. In moving the eye and the mind upwards, towers have us dreaming of more, of better, of dreams come true. Enchanted by the mysterious spell of the tower we smile, but there is a darker side to these dreamy spires.
Usually they contain something precious which is locked away from us, removed from the world and held in suspended otherworldly time. We can’t see into the tower, but we know that what it contains would delight and fulfil us, if only we could get there. Seeing the tower creates a longing to climb it. In fairy tales there is often a golden haired princess, hidden away by her father, awaiting rescue and release back into life. In this way the tower is a symbol of being stuck.
Some part of us has been locked away from us, by a part of us which is wise and thinks it knows what’s for the best. The princess within us all is vulnerable and innocent, she wears no armour and greets the world with soft smiles and laughter. Carefree and childlike this part of us longs to skip through the world which is our life, looking with fresh eyes and a creative spirit filled with possibilities. She longs to bring openness to change, and an innocent trust and belief that the world still has some good things in store for us.

Istanbul stormy sunset

The sky changes as a storm blows in, and this storm might also set our inner prince off on a quest searching for the golden haired
princess. Her hair is golden simply because she represents something eternal and untarnishable, no matter how long she is locked away in the tower. I love the hope that this can give us, in other words it’s never to late to start living more openly. It’s never too late to look for change when our lives feel unsatisfying. The prince represents our youthful courage, to feel the fear but go on the quest anyway. All change is frightening, but with some light armour and a good horse anything is possible. Determination, focus and will power will drive us forwards despite the fear in our belly, and the armour will shield us from all who have us stay the same. The precious jewel in the tower calls us onwards in hope.

William Wallace tower, Scotland

The stone and bricks of the tower symbolise the way we can build up a rigid way of seeing ourself. We might even feel quite proud of all we have achieved in the world. The storm blowing might damage the tower itself, sending its stones tumbling back down to earth. In the same way, sudden changes or storms in our lives, can crumble the existing a views we hold of ourself. It can feel like devastation, and utter loss as our preciously held sense of self is pulled apart. There is a tarot card called the Tower, which has exactly this meaning. It shows a tower being struck by lightening and crumbling, and it symbolises the sudden breakdown of previously held understandings of the world, and of ourselves.

Holyrood Palace tower, Edinburgh

But don’t worry, all is not lost, even if the tower does crumble. Remember the treasure within, the golden haired princess. She will be released by the towers destruction. With the release of the old rigid structures, which felt safe, but might I fact have been holding us back, there is the potential for fresh hope. The creative spirit full of growth and joy can be released back into our lives either by our own courage to seek change, or by unforeseen change crumbling away our old certainties. Either way the containment of the tower has passed its usefulness, and the golden haired princess is free to roam and play once more.

Nunsgate watch tower, Haddington, East Lothian

This post was inspired by the challenge theme ‘height’, at where’s my back pack. Click the link to see more takes on height.

Posted in change, elemental, mindfulness, mythology, philosophy, photos, spiritual, stuckness, unconscious | Tagged change, fairy tale, myths, philosophy, photography, psychotherapy, stuckness, symbolism, tower | 18 Comments

Good Morning Mykonos

Posted on October 5, 2013 by greenmackenzie

There is no nicer way to start a morning on the Greek island of Mykonos than with an ice cold frappe. Whizzed up from fresh Greek coffee it kick starts the system in all the right ways. Now normally back home in Scotland, where the weather tends to be a little cooler, this would be a terrible way to begin the morning. There I reach for a warm soothing cup of tea, usually oolong if possible. Here in the heat of a late Greek summer, even early in the morning it’s warm, and I discovered iced coffee is the perfect refreshment.

Long before the crowds arrive you can have a front row seat, looking out across the beautiful blue sea. The light shimmers on the water, the air is peaceful, the only sound is the lapping of the soft waves on the whitewashed walls.

The old disused windmills stand with their skeleton sails gazing out to sea. No longer grinding corn to flour they stand still and silent, but soon swarms of visitors will gather around their bases, busy catching their shot of this iconic sight.

Wandering through the twisting cobbled streets at this time of the morning is very relaxing. The soft light casts beautiful angled shadows across the fresh whitewashed walls. Freshly watered basil grows happily in the dappled shade, it’s sweet scent drifting in the warming air. It’s tempting to linger, to take a seat on the woven rug, but the unknown maze of as yet unexplored paths beckons.

Little courtyards appear around surprising corners, with empty tables waiting for a new days crowd. Flowers catch the rising sun, enjoying the morning peace at the start of another inevitable hot, busy day.

Some places are still relaxing after a late night. Soon this beautifully cool shaded street will be filled with people and hot Greek sunlight. It’s tables and chairs will fill up, and the sound of relaxed holiday chatter will drift through the buildings.

Let’s head back towards the sea, through the narrow white streets. It’s time for that second frappe, sitting in Little Venice, watching the incoming crowds slowly fill up the seats. At this time in the morning we can have our pick of table, each one with different flowers and herbs, and it’s own colour scheme. This one looks good, it’s in the shade, perfect for the quickly rising heat, and their coffee is freshly ground. A perfect Mykonos good morning.

Posted in mindfulness, nature photo, photos, relaxation, travel, weekly photo challenge | Tagged frappe, Greece, Greek Islands, mindfulness, morning, Mykonos, photography, postaday, travel | 32 Comments

Late Summer Flowers

Posted on October 2, 2013 by greenmackenzie

White lashed golden eyes
Open thirst driven into ceaseless light
Earth turns, flower strains.

Posted in change, elemental, mindfulness, nature photo, photos, poem, spiritual, verse | Tagged Autumn, change, elemental, flowers, Haiku, mindfulness, nature, photography, poem | 16 Comments

Autumns Colours: Saturated

Posted on September 30, 2013 by greenmackenzie

This weekend the dogs and I were catching some late summer sun at Craigmiller Castle. I love the low light and the long shadows which autumn brings, along with her fruits and mist. However the mist had all burned off with the crisp blue sky, and the golden light was saturating the over ripe grass.

The tips of all sorts of branches were saturated with berries and nuts, swollen with colour and juice. Autumns beautiful plump jewels were glowing in the late afternoon light, drawing the eye into corners of dappled shade.

Weaving in secret between the ripe fruits, she spins fates silken threads. All we notice are the purple elderberries, perfect for Christmas, filled with fiery sunlight.

Walking through the chestnut avenue, the light is bewitching, drifting in low patches which shimmer and shift in the warm breeze. The air is filled with green light, and all around is the sound of chestnuts dropping through the canopy of leaves and into the undergrowth.

Encased in protective green spikes, the gleaming conkers shine like polished wood. Smooth and cool to the touch, and filled with the promise of children’s games. Prize seeds, holding the potential of a whole tree.

Autumns colours begin to saturate the green leaves of summer. Red light flutters in the air.

While gold seeds wait for ripe release, back into the dark and fertile soil. The year turns, the colours shift, and the suns light fades with the green of the earth. The earth rolls us on towards the future.

Posted in change, elemental, green walks, mindfulness, nature photo, photos, spiritual, weekly photo challenge | Tagged Autumn, change, elemental, life, mindfulness, nature, photography, postaday, spiritual | 67 Comments

Magpie Hoard

Posted on September 25, 2013 by greenmackenzie

Paused in suspended earth sky space ,
Magpie hoarded treasures long to tumble,
From the void, returning into life’s wild breath.

Posted in change, elemental, mindfulness, nature photo, photos, poem, spiritual, stuckness, verse | Tagged change, elemental, forest, Haiku, life, nature, photography, poetry, spiritual | 20 Comments

Patterns in Lines: Dubrovnik

Posted on September 21, 2013 by greenmackenzie

Once through the enormous and dramatic fortified gate in Dubrovnik’s wall, we were drawn effortlessly along its stunning Main Street by the endless line of the gutters. I was captivated by the patterns and lines of these ancient cobbles, which seemed to lead away into infinity along an impossibly straight long street. The scale of the place left me breathless and in awe, and I was drawn irresistibly back and back to this line which defined the road beautifully. So we followed it.

At the other end the view back was just as incredible, and again defined by this wonderful ancient gutter. The historic cobbles themselves are magnetic in their appeal, polished so smooth by countless centuries of hooves and feet that they shimmer in the sun like water. I loved the long afternoon shadows drawn across the street, and the way the worn stones cast reflections back up skywards. The stone patterns, held between the lines of the gutters, held the warmth of the days sun, and bounced sound and light into mesmerising shapes. I was enchanted by the stones of Dubrovnik beneath my feet. The beauty of a straight line shot through the muddled patterns of medieval streets, and all contained by towering stone walls.

Golden rose petals scattered over a new brides head lay wilting in the late heat of a giant arch. Recent history carelessly littering the ancient stones. Layers of history had worn so deeply across these streets that they mirrored the world back at itself. Every story imaginable about humanity had played out here, and passion and violence still seem to linger in the air. The stones themselves bear witness with their shrapnel and bullet marks scaring the perfect patterns.

Shops in medieval buildings, still looking out at the passing river of people, as they have done for centuries. Some things don’t change, only the clothes and their shifting fashions give away the passage of time.

Tucked away behind the church at the gateway in, lies an ancient place of healing. The air of these cloisters is still sweetly scented by fresh flowers and aromatic oils being mixed into lotions and balms. The oldest working pharmacy in Europe has been offering cures and relief to all who can pay for hundreds of years. The monks hand written recipes and prescriptions are displayed in worn leather books among scales and bottles, instantly transporting us to another time. It’s as though you can see the wrinkled sun worn hands measuring out ingredients to waiting clients, the past feels very close and present. High in the walls of the pharmacy is a hole, covered now with Perspex, where a missile punched through destroying what had endured centuries of time. Only 20 years ago this beautiful city suffered unimaginable violence and destruction.

We climbed away from the streets, high onto the protective walls of the city. The late afternoon sun was casting rays in low angles around towers and roofs, and a slight sea breeze offered relief from the building heat. Polished almost as smooth as the cobbles below, this path wrapped itself around the old edges of the place, offering unusual views and angles.

The lines of the red tiled roofs made patterns within the walls, and I could easily imagine running wild and free across these rooftops. They were so tightly clustered, gathered like a posy of wild flowers, that it was hard to even make out any streets. The roofs spilled away towards the far wall and the ocean beyond.

Running away from the wide street which cuts through the heart of Dubrovnik, lies a warren of passages and tunnels, twisting and turning in random and confusing shapes. Doors, windows and courtyards suddenly present themselves in unexpected places. Where everything was laid bare and open on the main road, here nothing is obvious and only by looking, exploring and opening can you discover anything. The cobbles here swirl into curves and patterns which invite us forwards.

But I’m drawn back moth like to the astonishingly straight lines of the street as the sun sets and shadows rise from these ancient stones. Lights flicker into life, and the sounds and shapes of night are reflected from the lines and patterns of old Dubrovnik. It has captured my heart with its passion and it’s sizeable drama.

Take a look at more patterns in lines at this week photo challenge

Click on any image to see it in its full detailed glory

Posted in history, philosophy, photos, thoughts, travel, weekly photo challenge | Tagged Dalmation Coast, Dubrovnik, history, medieval, photography, postaday, stones, travel, unesco world heritage | 67 Comments

Gondolas of Venice

Posted on September 19, 2013 by greenmackenzie

There is no escaping the elegant beauty of the gondola in Venice, whatever the time of day. Here I found them resting in their stalls like horses in the early morning. Still covered up against the night air, they begin to get restless as the sun rises higher above the water. Their noses rise and fall impatiently with the rolling waves, eager to be uncovered and released. They have roamed the canals for hundreds of years, carrying everyone and everything imaginable between docks and buildings, palaces and churches, shops and home. Like the black cabs of London they epitomise the city, and sweep us back into history even as they move us forwards and through the canals and backwaters of this enchanting city.

The gondoliers themselves were also known as secret keepers, because they were renowned for revealing nothing about what happened aboard their boats. My imagination runs wild with tales of secret rendezvous, sweeping cloaks and masks, intrigue and mystery on the water. Watching the gondolier at work is an essay in mindfulness, as he reads the currents and waves of the canals and navigates the tightly twisting passages of the city’s heart. Balanced perfectly on the wildly rising and falling stern of the gondola, his oar sweeps and stirs the hidden depths of the green waters. You can be transported unnoticed from one watery doorstep to another, without stepping foot on a pavement. Nothing says mystery like Venice, and nothing says Venice like a gondola.

Posted in history, mindfulness, photos, travel | Tagged boats, gondola, history, mindfulness, mystery, photography, transport, travel, Venice | 36 Comments

Inside Venice

Posted on September 14, 2013 by greenmackenzie

Come with me, away from the frantic crowds and glaring heat of St Marks Square, into the cool silky back waters of Venice. Ribbons of satin light dance to the stirring of distant oars, reflecting straight lines of buildings into artful wobbles. The light is warm and soft, soaking into ancient layers of paint, peeling languidly away from watery walls.

Ridiculously romantic balconies hang over the winding passages of stone and water, promising whispers of love and heartache to all below. Windows which could be flung open at a moments notice to reveal ancient shadows of floating gowns and drifting hair, drip leaves and shadows across our path. Everything begs us to slow down, to soak in the colour, the sounds and the shimmering light.

Passages twist and turn with surprising suddenness, tumbling us into arched reflections, and choices. Will we cross the steep humped back of the bridge, will we step down towards the water and a waiting boat, or will we turn the corner and follow the stone lined edge of the canal. Each choice offers exquisite beauty and yet more surprises. Each turn of a corner leads us deeper and deeper into the crumbling labyrinth which is the inner heart of Venice, slowly and seductively peeling away our sense of direction, until we are utterly and delightfully lost.

Turning away from the curling winding canals seems to offer the promise of straight streets and logic, yet no sooner are we moving with certainty than the buildings seem to rise higher, crowding out the sky and the light on all sides. Streets end with dramatic right angles, forcing another unwanted change of direction, and Venice moves us deeper into her past. These peeling walls have echoed to the steps of thousands of years of history, and have felt the surge and fall of every human emotion. Blood has been spilled across these stones to settle lovers feuds at sword point, gold has been spilled in the heady mix of greed and desire, and poison has swirled hidden beneath plotting cloaks of power. The stories these bricks and cobbles could tell would fill a lifetime of reading.

Mystery, intrigue and romance fill the air, seeping through our damp skin into our hearts and minds, filling our heads with questions and delighting our eyes. The watery canal suddenly seems to offer certainty, a route out to somewhere, and we cross a bridge of light over its green silk depths.

As we follow the water it’s passage widens out, and soft fading sunlight washes the buildings, bringing brightness and space and colour. This is a nice residential area, the buildings are well kept, their layers of history held at bay beneath fresh plaster and paint. Parked at their doorsteps are clean well kept motor boats, perfect for nipping out to pick up some groceries. Flowers spill from window boxes and their sweet scent perfumes the cooling air.

The sun sinks and night falls across the city. Old wrought iron lamps flicker into light, and Venice changes once more into her glittering shimmering evening dress. The reflections are deeper and more golden, and light falls in pools around steps and corners, while darkness swallows some streets and canals in inky silent blackness. Yet more surprises await us around each unforeseen corner.
Inside Venice is a study in mindfulness and letting go of certainty. Even with a map, instinct will serve you better as a guide than logic. You will come across so many unexpected delights that getting lost will be a pleasure. Wander freely knowing that every now and then there will be a small painted arrow, high on a corner, pointing the way back to St Marks Square.

See more posts and photos on this weeks theme of inside here.

See inside another Unesco world heritage site at Tinas post this week.

Click on any photo to see it in full resoloution, and all its glory 🙂

Posted in history, mindfulness, philosophy, photos, relaxation, travel, weekly photo challenge | Tagged canals, history, mindfulness, philosophy, photography, postaday, romance, travel, Unesco World Heritage site, Venice | 87 Comments

Moods on Sea

Posted on August 30, 2013 by greenmackenzie

The sea is a beautiful creature, she shifts and changes with the turning light, with the weather, with the moon and with the ocean tides. Never the same from one hour to the next she shows us our true nature. She shows us the truth of a life in constant flux, and she shows us how beautiful this constant change can be, if only we embrace it. Sunset over the ocean is achingly beautiful in its constant change, in fact the change itself is the beauty.

The next most beautiful change we see over the salty waves of the sea is the play of sun and rain. These two elements create one of natures most ephemeral and beautiful sights, the rainbow. I was already captivated by the play of light between the rain storm and the sunlight. It divided the sky and the ocean in two, and then suddenly a beautiful arc of colour sprung between them. The rainbow flowed on down over the sea and I was lost.

Other days the sea shows us perfect warmth and colour, inviting us in to swim in her gentle caress. The sun ripens golden grass and heats the shallow waves, creating an irresistible place to rest and relax, losing ourselves in thoughts which drift off across the water.

Then she conspires with the sun and creates golden glitter to dazzle and bewitch our eyes and our souls. The urge to walk out along the path of light is strong.

Then there are days where she throws a tantrum, and the clouds boil into bruises and the light is distracted off the rocks, sucked into the horizon. All blue light leaves the sea and she brews a dark mood beneath the gathering clouds. Drama is high and tangible on storm days, and a wild excitement fills the air, expecting the unknown to burst through in bright flashes.

And then she settles back into softness and comfort, nursing us out of isolation and hardness. On these days her golden warmth would melt the heart of an ice giant, and he would melt into her silk caress, and on into the horizon.

I am off across the waves on an adventure for the next few weeks, so I won’t be able to visit and read all my favourite blogs. Please forgive my lack of visits, and I promise to post when I can, and to catch up when we get back. Thank you to everyone who follows, and especially to the wonderful people who post their thoughts and comments.

Find more gorgeous posts about the sea at this weeks photo challenge

Posted in elemental, mindfulness, nature photo, photos, relaxation, weekly photo challenge | Tagged beach, change, elemental, mindfulness, nature, photography, postaday, relaxation, scotland, sea | 68 Comments

Sweet Chestnuts of Roslin

Posted on August 28, 2013 by greenmackenzie

Deep in the old woods of Roslin Valley there live two very ancient tree ents. In the green shaded light of the summer woods you can make out their limbs and faces, which have grown here for over 400 years. In fact they have stood here for so long that time has gathered in a shadowy mist around its branches, pausing time and place. A deep velvet hush hangs over the hollow and everything present holds its breath afraid to wake the dozing giants, descendants of Roman immigrants 2,000 years ago.

If you venture close enough, you can look up into the branches where antlered wooden deer run free through the field of leaves. With their horned heads held high they keep watch over the paths leading to the old tree creatures body. Among the moonlight these deer hide from Odins Wild Hunt, as they have since time began. All is kept safe within these wise wooden arms and warm wooden heart.

If you dare to look a little closer you might even see the shapes of sleeping dragon heads and snakes, all slumbering in the fruitful branches. These arms will soon bear fruit, and sweet chestnuts will tumble freely to earth, yearly gifts from the ent to the world. Food as old as time for squirrels, wild pigs and people alike falls along with twisted wood. Sometimes arms reach down to touch the earth as though they long to feel its cool presence after too long an absence.

This tree has been resting for so long that ferns are growing in its high hollows, as though it was an extension of the earth. Who knows what else is hiding in its shadows and bark, calling this ancient tree home, and looking out across the valley. There are so many hidden eyes and ears in the leafy dell that a deep and lasting feeling of being watched will soak into your bones. Your mind will be brushed by the presence of this wooden giant, and all else will flee from your mind. Fear or joy, one of the two will flood your head and your heart, and you will know if the ent has accepted your being in his sleepy hollow. Leave quickly and quietly if you need to, or rest a while soaking in the gathered wisdom of this timeless place, knowing that you have slipped between the cracks in reality.