Returning to place, time and time again, through all weather, all seasons - it continues to reveal itself/ themselves - as a community. They are generous, in that they invite us in - I feel a visceral sense of welcome. We pay respect, we offer back. I often feel humbled. A small part of the whole. A small part that knows very little (but feels a lot). Or I'm learning to feel as body rather than think about any of it. To think about this place whilst I'm there is utterly dissatisfying. And actually my mind becomes very quiet, calm. My nervous system loves it. No stress. Nothing is fast or invasive. Everything is real.
I come here to 'vote' - meaning 'to gather and give voice (or gesture) to what's important' - in a sense to devote. It's an act of devotion.
Found this mouth piece on a beach near Westward Ho, North Devon.
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