EMBODIED
MYTH
Have you ever read the stories in your bones?
Have you ever felt the shivers, cliff hangers and sweet landing of myth melt into your tissue?
Have you ever stretched the arc of character across your fascia?
Join me for Embodied Myth, where I retell the great stories so that they are rooted, reanimated and relived through your own body.
“Just as fungi originally taught plants how to root into the soil, so myths teach us how to root into relation with our ecological and social ecosystems.”
Sophie Strand
EMBODIED MYTH
A monthly online offering combining Storytelling, Embodied Movement and Deep Rest.
You will root the great stories, the ones that really mattered, into your DNA.
You will touch the archetypal energies of the stories that shaped our souls.
You will meet the human and more-than-human beings
who travel through time within the myths
that are alive in the soil, in the sky and within you.
Why?
“Because there’s some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”
21 October, 6-8pm BST
CHAPTER 4: THE SELKIE
£20, online and by recording
The SELKIE
My skin is velvet brackish pelt
Soft and heavy draping.
My eyes, wet round water-stones,
Blinking through salt-lashes.
The Moon is in my belly;
Sometimes full, most - times dark, always red.
Words have passed my teeth,
In language-song,
In the wild sound of birthing.
(In the fullness of time,
All things become ripe.)
- Nellie Cole
The myths are calling to you.
They are in the air, gasping
underneath the wingspan of the birds that soar
from slipstream to precipice. They howl through the vast valleys and
they exhale with the rising moon.
They are in the roots, reaching their fingers
down into the dirt and decay, clawing at the dark crevices
of remembering. Worms nestle inside their chapters,
eating the poetry and turning it to mush.
The myths long to grow tall, to push
life up into the day, to drink in the sunlight.
They are in the soil. Silent, silken and shuddering
with the tremors of Earth. Glimmering blackness
reflecting the secrets waiting to be told and retold,
hanging onto the bottom of the serpent’s belly as they
glide over the ages of lost story.
And the myths are in your bones.
They are written in the steady binding of your form
longing to ripple out and be reclaimed
through the slopes and slides and soft openings
of your body.
The myths call through you.
“Libby reignited a spark in my imaginal world, I now offer that world as much devotion as my waking life. I am immersed in symbols that flicker behind closed and open eyes. I have dream companions, protectors that are by my side. I am living with big questions but I have a whole universe of wisdom to tap into when I sit with soul. If you are wondering what is deep inside your soul, what is whispering or screaming to be heard, which path to walk down, which way to swim or how to live with such deep hunger for life, then sit with Libby.”