Here in Melbourne, Spring is tapping Winter on the shoulder and saying, “Come on love, it’s time to move on!” Winter is stubborn and selfish and often likes to hang around longer than invited. Spring, gentle and insistent that new possibilities must be born, nudges forward showering the air with her delights until Winter, sullen and annoyed by her displacement leaps forward and overtakes with a cold, rainy burst. Although the skies are silvery grey and scattered showers fall upon the city, the sweet scent of Spring lingers and the daylight hours continue to grow longer and a little warmer.
For me, Winter is a time of hibernation, especially this year more than any other. I am unraveling my life. It is a process that requires me to go within, mostly alone but sometimes with a trusted guide to heal the source of my disconnection. A deep and painful wound I have carried and hidden for most of my life. Ashamed. Broken. Edge over edge, I breathe, I step, I cry. This is how I heal. This is how I find my voice, for the wound is where I first lost my voice.
I am learning that the darkness of the wound is the source of my light. Not all wounds are ugly if they are embraced and kissed and showered with love. In time they reveal their gifts. We work so hard to avoid pain in our lives but an untended wound festers. I am tired of living my life in this kind of flight. Reluctantly, I came back to Melbourne from my imperfect paradise but I knew this is where I needed to be and this is what I needed to do. I came back to what I know so I could heal. Here, there is comfort and ease in familiarity. It can be easier to find yourself in the streets you know well.
My voice appears in fleeting moments. Inspired by the words of others, a walk through the park or sitting in silence. The essence of who I am and what I came here to be and say intermittently calls through then the line drops out. I am rebuilding the connection. In time I will have a permanent high-speed link. But for now, although the expansive energy of spring flows in and winter begins to ebb, my time of hibernation is not quite complete.
"Remember, there is one word you are here to say with your whole being. When it finds you, give your life to it. Don't be tight-lipped and stingy. Spend yourself completely on the saying. Be one word in this great love poem we are writing together" - The Call by Oriah Mountain Dreamer