Barbara's Reflections

I’d love to share a reflection that emerged during our Medicine Walk from Vidovići to Lubenice.
A path that revealed itself not only through the land, but also deep within.

Three words that hold the essence of this experience are:
Stillness. Remembrance. Belonging.
May the words touch something true in you.
May they remind you that your own path is sacred, too.
From the bottom of my heart and with great humility,
Barbara
 
Medicine Walk – From Vidovići to Lubenice
A Path Between Earth and Sky
 
"You don’t walk to arrive — you walk to remember."
Around midday we arrive in Vidovići.
In silence, I gaze out toward the shimmering sea, then back to the stone houses resting on the hillside like ancient guardians.
I feel the sun warming my face. I close my eyes and breathe — deeply, slowly.
I feel my feet touching the Earth.
I feel the wind on my skin.
I listen.
With each breath, stillness settles in.
With each breath, my heart opens a little more.
Beneath my feet, an ancient path awakens. A path walked by many before me.
A path that does not lead me away, but gently brings me back to myself.
I don’t need to know anything.
I don’t need to achieve anything.
Just walk.
Just listen.
 
"I am ready to hear.
I am ready to receive.
I am ready to remember.
I am ready to walk - 
guided by the wind, by the earth,
by the rhythm of my steps.
Held by Spirit."
I open my eyes and see the trail ahead.
I let the vastness of this place sink into my heart.
I walk not to arrive.
I walk to remember.
To feel myself again
as part of the Great Whole.
The path is marked — but not always clear.
Again and again, we stand at crossings, where worn footpaths split and meander.
This is where intuition is needed. Where we make decisions together. 
The mind must rest. It is the feeling that leads.
 
How slowly  must we walk to truly see?
How fast must we move to return before the twilight sets in?
The closer we come to Lubenice, the wider the view unfolds.
The sea below is a deep blue mirror.
The cliffs rise — raw, powerful, sacred.
We stand still.
We listen to the wind.
And in this moment we are not separate.
We are part of all that is.
Nature speaks in signs.
The plants are companions, guardians, and silent teachers.
The silvery glow of Helichrysum — the "Everlasting" — carries the scent of sun and time.
The twisted, deep-rooted holm oaks, so typical for Cres, remind us what it means to stand grounded in life.
And everywhere — ancient olive trees, weathered and wise, telling stories through their bark.
They teach us patience, resilience, and wisdom.
A massive rock formation - the old watering hole - a place of shelter when the rains come.
The air hums with bees, with invisible wings and whispers.
And there on a sun-warmed stone a caravan of ants, focused and purposeful in their task.
Between the rocks, something small and quick darts past - a creature full of life.
A curious hare pauses by the path, ears tilted toward our steps, then hops away — not in fear, but with quiet interest.
Nearby, a small flock of sheep grazes peacefully, undisturbed by our presence, as if we were simply part of the landscape.
A deer flickers through the underbrush like a spirit, barely seen but deeply felt.
A wild boar rustles the thickets and vanishes just as quickly as it appeared.
 
 
The return is magical.
The setting sun paints the sea in liquid gold.
The words of Thich Nhat Hanh echo in my heart:
 
“Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.”
This is not a walk between two places.
This is a journey back to my own being.
As we descend the last stretch toward Vidovići, I feel the invisible web of connection more clearly than ever before.
Gratitude spreads through me.
A quiet, deep reverence for being part of this Great Mystery fills my heart.
 
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you for this empowering experience.