MY HEART IS IN AVALON.

MY HEART IS IN AVALON.

.Ever since my eyes locked on to The Glastonbury Tor as our car approached the town, and my eyes streamed with tears that seemingly came from nowhere, my soul has never left.

I do not know how I lived three hours away from this sacred site for 25 years of my life yet never visited it. Until last year.

I walked along the cobbled lanes at 5am last April on the morning of the full moon and my heart simultaneously dipped with sadness and soared with joy at the sound of the blackbirds who were greeting the day with song. Home.

The sun had not arisen yet; my husband and I rambled silently for an hour and as sunlight began to wander throughout grey clouds, the trees began to speak even more animatedly and the turnstiles and promise of an ancient orchard ahead had my heart pulsating with a beat akin to faery steps, timing my breath with the rolling thump of Earth that was becoming denser with memory beneath my feet.

I climbed. And I cried. Water droplets danced down my freezing face as i gazed at the rocks and mounds that felt like old friends.

I heard the sounds of antiquated lives.

Now, when on my yoga mat, or just before i slip into dreams or at the sound of harp and flutes, when my fingers touch the softness of rose petals or my nose detects the scent of damp forest or ancient moss, or during a past life regression with my thetahealer teacher this past week, I am there.

I am in Avalon, collecting whatever pieces of my soul are willing to come back to me...though I know that I will never again be whole without my body upon its soil.

When you feel these feelings- home from home- listen to the whispers that beg you to return. In those places, your path and purpose become alive and your journey in this life will accelerate beyond your wildest dreams.

Simultaneously, we can not force our soul homes. We can not force our paths. They will crumble with little advice about how to get home.

Such is life: pay attention to the heart tugs, the belly flips, the spontaneous tears, the flow of art. Move into it. Be there.

Siân xo

Picl @avalonrituals 

Sian Pilkington