SIBYL MAGAZINE—May 2017/ ‘Part’ In The Whole Journal
A PILGRIM SEEKING TEMPLES
Sandra Mattucci—‘Part’ In The Whole Journal
A part in a Whole? Of a journal?
While walking ‘The Way,’ a journal carried the voice of the Tree within me. With a sense of deep reverence for all creation, my body included, I wrote in its pages. A lyrical melody played in me, danced in me, sang in me. Through all kinds of weather, the story blossomed into being.
The temple—my body a living Tree woven in this earth took on life. It was drawn to the sun’s warmth as I walked. My toes, life’s roots, curl through the mud giving thanks to my soles which hold them allowing them to linger in the soft blanket of grass. My soles celebrate my heels—the strong base providing me the strength to stand. My heels embrace my ankles in a passionate hold. They are the soft part of the branch that flexes giving mobility to the root system of this temple…this Divine being. My ankles support my calves—those muscular barrels holding the knees. The knees carry the weight of this tree’s ‘top’ and allow the roots to dig deeper and deeper (especially my injured knee broken, yet firm) finding a way to continue to grow. The knees embrace the quads—the trunk of this sacred tree. They hold this dwelling place, and even if moved, the trunk holds a place sustaining the pelvis, tender areas, protected by bark and climbing into the stomach—the storage bin for nutrients sustaining this ‘being’ day in and day out.
Above the stomach, front and back—the core…the heart center of SACRED MYSTERY. It beats within the cage of ribs held by the spine allowing this shoot to bend and sway. The breast plate—the chest adds dimension to this living, breathing temple and near to it on both sides—arms. Arms (branches) are instruments used for gathering, caring, holding, pulling, embracing and stretching. The arms, when at rest, can be seen in the posture of hands held in prayer. The neck bends sometimes ‘upward’ in awe, and at times ‘downward’ in humility, giving thanks for what so often is forgotten and no longer remembered.
Finally, we arrive at the head—the compass of endless directions. The mouth an instrument of speech is often overlooked in its quest to embrace the gentleness of ‘quiet.’ The nose captures myriads of scents and is an enabler to ward off danger. The ears invite all to hear…to listen. Eyes are the gateway to light beckoning us to gaze upon the dwelling place of the MOST HIGH. Finally, the crown once enlightened, trusts none of anything would be if the roots (toes) inching into the soils of time did not continue to feed off creation’s very presence—birthing, groaning and laboring every single day.
This temple…my body—a part, a TREE uprooted finding LIFE in being human.