Today, the silver skies are bruised and whispering of rain. The leafy limbs of the waratah trees are being tossed to and fro by that invisible force. As I walked along the street, my long brown tresses were picked up and whipped into a knotty frenzy above my head.
Change is in the air.
The wind that pushed against me is warm, heralding the approach of summer. Seemingly overnight, the white blossoms of the wild plum trees have been replaced by soft green baby leaves whilst the pending peach blooms of our garden's rose bushes have burst through the green fists that held them tight and hidden from view.
Finally, I release the breath I have held tight in my chest throughout winter in a long, relieving sigh.
But it is Monday again and so returns the elastic sadness that wraps firmly around my chest as I grieve the end of my slow days, knowing that the next three days will be replaced with frenetic kind of doing that is out of sync with my essential nature. I am the wild bird voluntarily returned to the cage to sing for her supper. There is joy and purpose in the song but it’s not quite as sweet as when it is sung freely sitting in a big old tree.
Throughout the month of October I am participating in soul work called Spirits of Joy, working through 30 days of prompts to explore my truth, beauty, connection, love, joy, dreams and ritual and to share with beautiful like-minded women from all over the world. It is a nourishing experience that is helping me to drop deeper into this time of transition. In the last week I have noticed my breath start moving freely and deeply through my body once more as my body relaxes and lets go into this moment.
Despite the sadness, the confusion and uncertainty that often overwhelms me as I slowly feel my way through this transition, I have a deep faith and a deep inner knowing that everything will work out perfectly in its own way and in its own time.
Here is an extract of a letter I wrote during the week….
Dear Magical Universe
Here are my heart-felt dreams that I share with you to sprinkle with fairy dust and magic so that they grow from these tiny feeling seeds into wild and magical faraway trees.
I have come to learn, dear Magical Universe, that you have been with me all along. Your gentle hands have guided me and urged me on when I have been stuck or fearful. And even when I have turned my back and tried to ignore you, you have never given up on me. You have called me forward, softly and continuously, urging me not to go back to a life that no longer fits. You have led me to the sweet whispers of my own heart, to this place where I have to listen and acknowledge the dormant dreams within.
Can these sacred dreams come true?
Sometimes I still doubt that I am worthy of such happiness and unconditional love. It scares me to confess and share these dreams with you. What if I’m still playing too small? What if they come true and it’s still not enough and I’m left asking if this is all there is?
Right now I feel you urging me to trust my heart and trust my dreams as I have trusted you. You have always been there for me throughout my loneliness, my grief and despair as you have always been there for me throughout my happiest, bliss-filled, love-filled highs. You have shown me throughout my life that things always turn out just fine…actually better than fine and often in a way that I could never have imagined.
And so dear Magical Universe, like the white wispy seeds of the dried dandelion flower, I lovingly blow you my dreams, and I follow with deep faith, my hand in your hand, along this uncharted path, trusting that wherever the dream seeds land they will bloom in the most beautiful and unexpected ways.
With love and gratitude
|Bursting blooms, rose bushes in our front garden|