Reflections from Iceland: The Island of Fire and Ice

Iceland is a land of extremities — completely magnificent, dramatic, and alive. There are no soft curves here, no gentle stillness, no silence. She is wild, untamed, and free.

Geysers burst to life without warning. Volcanoes breathe and erupt. Tectonic plates from Europe and America meet. Vast glaciers loom — ancient, powerful, yet visibly shrinking. Waterfalls thunder relentlessly back into the Earth.

To stand here is to feel both awe and vulnerability all at once.

Mother Earth reveals herself fully in Iceland — powerful, adaptable, constantly shifting and changing. The weather is extreme. The light and darkness are intense. The polarities are unmistakable.

It was humbling.
It was empowering.
It was utterly unique.

The aurora dancing across the sky blew my mind — our incredible planet protecting us, transforming harmful gases into shimmering colours and light. The stars pierced the darkness of the night sky, bright and beautiful.

Peace and unpredictability.
Love and chaos.
Balance and power.
Strength and softness.

Mother Earth teaches us that, like her, we are living, breathing, changing beings. We carry both balance and chaos within our bodies. We are vessels — adapting, shining, evolving — finding harmony and disruption internally and externally.

When we are in peace, when we live in harmony, we can feel the Earth hum — the sound of the universe, the sacred Om.

We are only a moment in time for this planet. A blink of an eye.

If we fail to respect her, she will eject us. We try to understand her, predict her, control her — but she is untameable. She is alive. She is free. She is wild. She is inspiring.

Mother Earth reminds us that anything is possible. She calls us to be bold, fearless, luminous. To be unique. To be vulnerable and strong.

We cannot control the Earth — trying to harness her is like trying to harness a dragon.
But we can control our actions.
What we consume.
What we tune into.
What we allow to shape our future.

It is time to look up.
To question.
To truly live.

Coming home to New Moon Mill — my place of safety, calm, peace, and balance — I felt this integration deeply. This place holds me so that I can step beyond my comfort zone and still feel supported.

I see this reflected in our inner world too. When our nervous system feels safe, when we trust ourselves, when we create moments of stillness and contemplation — we allow ourselves to also be wild, brave, and courageous.

These extremes are not opposites.
They are partners in growth.