A warm welcome to SOULand
SOULand is a response to our traumatised, collapsing and transforming world.
It is a growing Programme of nature-based rituals, trainings, art and mentorship
to restore humanity back to deep relationship with the Earth, mature the human soul
and co-create the world of our longing as a gift back to Earth.
Knowing it is probably to late... 'Dancing the Wild Song of no Hope'
It is a vision of sanctuary, a great giveaway.
It is soul activism.
—Azul-Valérie Thomé, founder of SOULand
It is a growing Programme of nature-based rituals, trainings, art and mentorship
to restore humanity back to deep relationship with the Earth, mature the human soul
and co-create the world of our longing as a gift back to Earth.
Knowing it is probably to late... 'Dancing the Wild Song of no Hope'
It is a vision of sanctuary, a great giveaway.
It is soul activism.
—Azul-Valérie Thomé, founder of SOULand
|
|
|
|
'Soul Activism is when Maturing as a Species becomes a graceful and rebellious act!' Azul Valérie Thomé
"Virtually all native cultures that have survived without fouling their nests have acknowledged that nature knows best, and have had the humility to ask the bears and wolves and ravens and redwoods for guidance." Janine Benyus
We will be creating spaces for Soul to feel welcome again.
We will learn with courage to feed, care, court and praise Her back into being.
I look forward to a deep and wild conversation with you all in the company of
Grief, Love, Death and Birth
as if our Wild and Precious Life truly Matters... Azul
A Vision
A Poem by Wendell Berry
If we will have the wisdom to survive,
to stand like slow-growing trees
on a ruined place, renewing, enriching it...
then a long time after we are dead
the lives our lives prepare will live
here, their houses strongly placed
upon the valley sides, fields and gardens
rich in the windows. The river will run
clear, as we will never know it,
and over it, birdsong like a canopy....
On the steeps where greed and ignorance cut down
the old forest, an old forest will stand,
its rich leaf-fall drifting on its roots.
The veins of forgotten springs will have opened.
Families will be singing in the fields.
In their voices they will hear a music
risen out of the ground....
Memory,
native to this valley, will spread over it
like a grove, and memory will grow
into legend, legend into song, song
into sacrament. The abundance of this place,
the songs of its people and its birds,
will be health and wisdom and indwelling
light. This is no paradisal dream.
Its hardship is its possibility.