Making shapes on the beach Beside a wild ocean Deep currents thundering Fingers tracing a pattern Where my ancestors dug up Human skulls In the dunes Fifty years ago Here the wind blew Between he and me, breathless Singing This … Continue reading
I’ve been at the gates of the North for a while. There have been many diversions, things to attend to, resistance to unravel.
Our circle didn’t meet for a good few weeks as these threads of new jobs, relocations, changed plans and shadow dancing were worked through. Are worked through. Process is always unfolding. I get this. When our circle finally met, it was sweet, a reminder of the value of a cohort rooted in mutual commitment to truth, and the diversity of how truth manifests. What was clear in our meeting was my resistance to scripting a new story. Like I wasn’t wanting to let go of the old one yet, or needed more information to make a new one. Can’t say I’m fully out the woods of these fears, and holding on stubbornly to the old storylines. But damn, I’m noticing them playing out. I can see the trees even as I tremble beneath them. She moves through, anyway.
There’s an agreement here that I break when I move on. The one that says I need to know everything. Gulp.
Finally I do. Move on. Into the entrance of the North. I call on helpers because when I break the agreement named above, I can open up to assistance. For me right now, this is the support and insight of the circle, the strong home-girl compassion of the deities who speak to me, retreat into time alone and consultation with a fresh version of the I Ching (a dear old friend and guiding hand through many turning points).
This week I move with a light and slow touch. I perform my roles as mother, worker, partner, sister, friend, daughter, writer and thesis reviser with care, attention and a joyfully playful mind.
I notice when I compare myself with others. Even little things; the seemingly inconsequential. I note the effect this has on how I do the things that matter to me. What forms of censorship I impose. What is suppressed. What I do instead. I write down these observations as I go about my business, do my work.
I do this to identify what my truth is.
This practice assists me in locating and living by this truth, inhabiting it rather than being led by speculation about the ‘truth’ I think others may expect from me.
I live and respond and take action from this still point. I stay watchful. Keeping meticulous notes frequently helps me in this, because any kind of research is assisted by reflective record keeping on the job.
I travel with pen and paper.
I awaken my light.
I discover my truth.
Bring on the week…. looking North.