Drifting Off

Sweet child, though you may not think it, you are not alone. In the silent blanket of night there are signs to remind you of the love that surrounds you. The day retires and whispers moments into your memory that ripple throughout your being. 

As you wrestle your body down under the blankets and let the last surges of movement leave your being, you soften to the stillness that is to come. You remember the turning leaves popping against the blue afternoon sky. The warmth of the sun while you talked to your daughters at the playground. The way the dog reminds you he's always by your side. 

Release the heavy thoughts and wrap the warm feeling of love around you. There is peace in the air and the promise of love - unexpected after so many moments of disappointment. All that remains true is the feeling you are not alone. The gentle unseen forces are softly by your side. 

Solid. Stable. True.

Sister, we both ache for this world to be more heartfelt and humble. We have found ways to survive while putting aside our disappointment about what is not. We are told we are sheep and we must be weary of the wolf.

Yet the feminine spirit is alive and well. She has been chained for too long but will always overcome. You are a heartbeat of this spirit. You are part of this greater knowing. 

Really we are timeless rays of light that can be blocked but never broken. Together we reach across the sky to release the darkness. We work as one - stronger together than we are alone.

We are the wolf.

Constricting

Matilda hadn’t visited in ages. The woman disappeared into the tending of her days and Matilda fell to the background of her being. Of course she was still there but she remained untapped in the bustle of the holidays and the fresh new year. It was becoming clear though that she was needed to close the circle; to help the woman weave together the end of one year and the beginning of another. So she came for a visit amidst the falling flakes of snow. She arrived swirling towards the woman’s house in a flurry of delicate chaos. Inside the home, the energy reflected nothing of the movement outside. The woman had finally found a sense of peace in the electricity of the new year. She lingered in it like she would a luxurious bath, soaking it in and letting it wrap around her, comforting her and releasing a tightness she had been holding for months now. She was yearning for something outside being. As she recognized this craving, a single oak leaf floated through the lightly falling flakes. It was a giant in a sea of delicate art. It's contrasting presence called to her and she gathered her coat to go stand in the snow. She wanted to be immersed in the beautiful, delicate chaos and waken to the unexpected thrill that comes from feeling cold. 

A squirrel dangled upside down on the bird feeder. It’s oversized tail wrapped around the top as its feet created feats of dexterity holding on so it could eat. The birds hid eagerly int he tree waiting for it to disappear. 

She felt the crisp air in her lungs. There was a sensation which felt good when she expected it to feel lonely and frigid. She too felt as if the deep frozen parts of her being we’re welcoming her to witness the beauty that formed from hardened fluidity. The snow falling faster as the flakes were growing larger.  She thought about the warmth of her stove and the satisfaction of having something brewing a top it all day. The inside was calling her back to the warmth to the light. A candle flickered on her table, she could see it from the yard and yet she let it be. A deep knowing told her there would always be a way to go back and get warm. For now, the majesty of the environment was where she was being drawn. 

The new snow of this fresh year was no blizzard but rather the clouds releasing an energy that had built up and she felt akin to this liberation. It felt utterly kindred to her: the fresh release falling on old snow and ice. She marveled at what she had released from her life, many movements felt like an uncontrollable storm of sorts as the weight of what she been holding finally reached a breaking point she could no longer corral. She turned to face the barrage of expectations, emotions, fears and hopes that she carried for so long and she exhaled. She stepped aside. She opened up to face the fear she anticipated and found the beauty of letting go. 

The air was crisp and her intellect taut, it had been months since she felt so immersed in the place she physically inhabited. She watched it all come down, falling gently and landing upon the surface of her world. Soon it would transform, seep into the ground and saturate the unseen and she would thirst no more. She was filled with the promise of movement, the beauty of chaos and the unquestionable truth that this too will pass. 

Life was fully altered now. She could no longer follow the path back to where she had been. It would be spring before that way would be uncovered and somehow she knew it would no longer be the right way to move. The flakes fell upon her face and softened into her skin. There was a delicate kinship to this season that at first presented itself is hard and cold. It had taken her years to understand it’s subtleties and dance. Sometimes we must grow hard, constrict then tip over and spill out. She no longer felt somber or stoic about this winter. The birds reminded her of the lightness of being; the color and delight in nature. They pecked at the food in the feeder, the squirrel had long since gone.