There is vulnerability on the other side of the pictures of growth and evolution and joy. There is a struggle inside of sadness and exhaustion and hsp overwhelm. There is the need to cocoon and bathe as all the feelings wash over. The re-entries, the worries of other's feelings and which bits we take responsibility for. Love and joy can ache along side of it all. My thirst doesn't always feel good. I forget to drink. To hydrate my body and emotions. Moving through the uncomfortable pieces to find the truth. Feeling it all. Letting it settle in. The work.
Found words from three years before, I often feel like my past self left a little trail for me to find on the days when I can't remember where beauty is, and then the beauty starts to flood me like bliss from every direction, in every surprising possibility.
She sent me a podcast link to listen to for my birthday. John O'Donohue - The Inner Landscape of Beauty. (onbeing.org)
He talks about seeing time as the spirit of presence. He says words that flow over me as beauty.
As I listen I scroll through an Instagram account of a woman I am highly intoxicated by in her beauty and way.
I'm in my bed listening to the wild winds, snuggled up in my favorite sweater with sleeves so long I can hide my hands inside of them. It is a day I want to hide my whole self, my hands will have to do. I need to cry and the tears won't come.
*NEW MOON* in Virgo augurs a time of deep self-healing. VIRGO is the archetype of the healer, the medicine woman, the one who is dedicated to serving her people.
And yet there always comes a time when even she must retreat and give some of that healing to herself. Her connection to Source is strengthened when she goes within.
And so she allows things to fall where they may, and like leaves falling, she see the patterns and knows what she must keep and what she must shift.
And in the shifting tides, she allows herself the time she needs to heal. She makes a healing salve out of all her worries and abides marveling the perfection within the imperfection. - Mystic Mamma
Virgos create order from chaos. She was new on my birthday. I am in it. The re-organizing of thoughts and prayers and stuff and needs.
Untangling of what is judgement and what is my definition of beauty. The beauty of compassion and kindness that I am aching for.
To be. To receive.
I am searching to find what is real versus old. After we forgive how do we let go? When our eyes are still so hurt we can't look at theirs. When we understand why they are or did or said or felt and still we hold onto it being ours, the deep wounds. Ours.
He says in the podcast that spirituality is the art of homecoming. The photo above found from before in the place that would write her a story that she would tell over and over to her future self.
She would promise her home.
She would promise her safety.
She would promise her love.
She would promise her beauty.
She would promise her compassion.
She would promise her kindness.
We were throwing out ideas for magic slips (a practice I teach in Magic Making Circles) and one of my soul-sisters mentioned spending the day speaking your preferences.
You know those moments when you feel a bit hit in the gut? That one did it for me.
I told myself I would practice this. Instantly inside of it I understood that this is where I don't feel safe. And trying to find order or release judgement or radiate compassion is a plead for safety.
Last night I made pumpkin pie. Some of the kids ate it for breakfast while I sipped my coffee and prayed for the presence of beauty to find me.
The hug he gave me on his way out the door.
The smell of the pie as I emptied the dishwasher.
The sound of the wild wind.
The bandaid hugging my thumb after a knife sliced through.
The way a pile of clothes folded can remind you of who you are.
The memory of doing cross stitch as a child.
The way the dirty mirror makes the photo look like magical dancing light.
The mug holding the morning liquid.
The words waiting for me from long ago.
The way his words on beauty brought a safety to my vibration.
I told them I make pumpkin pie for women after they have had a baby because it is filled with iron. I love the way it sits on the counter as the center of home.
My hands will stay snuggled up today inside the fabric of my sweater as the storm blows through. I am longing to rediscover hand work, touch beads, string, needles. I will make more pies.
Forming the pie crust.
Feeling the heat from the oven.
Smelling the flavors.
Inside the presence of time.
all my love.