Friday, October 23rd, 2009
Last night I unraveled a scarf I’d been knitting. I’d run out of yarn and needed to start over in a different way. What surprised me, having never unraveled like that, (I only know how to knit scarves) was how good it felt, and how like to what I had been feeling within me it was. All season long I have felt such solace because as I have been letting go the earth too has been letting go at the very same time all around me. She is ready for the release of what has passed and the new cycle to come. And in this letting go has been the unraveling of all that was woven until then.
I thought about the relief when something that you have invested yourself so much in crumbles. I know we often feel the pain of that, but last night I just thought about the relief. There is something so good about un-investing yourself, when it is right. Something so good about retracing your steps backward until you are where you started and can start again. And while unraveling all that you have thought yourself to be, or tried to become can be unsettling…scary…terrifying even…it also sets you free.
And then I thought about the fact that the better you get at becoming and releasing, the more intense it becomes…the constant dissolving of identity. And the more powerful and subtle the new identifications become. So all the while as the universe has had our little planet thrown around in an incredible, tumultuous ocean of energies in these past few weeks, I have been spending whatever time needed to bail out the boat, crash onto the shore, sink, swim, hang onto pieces of wood, and let go of it all, and the rest of the time absolutely, unashamedly, in love with the little things.
I have been in love with fall. In love with the colors of the leaves and the crisp air and sharp sun. In love with the return of the rain, the puddles, and the cold. I have been in love with the green leafy vegetables that are still happy to be harvested at the local farms. I have been in love with knitting scarves again, pumpkins on the porch, and hula hooping in my living room. I have been in love, for the first time in my life, with baking. And with the new plants in our new yard, strawberries, and playing with my new neighborhood girlfriends who are all under the age of eight. And all my old loves…writing, dancing, connecting with people, and so many more…all have a new flame and sparks about them. The veils between the worlds are just barely thinning and I am already feeling the new life beneath the winter snow.
I know we are all falling apart. Our castles are crumbling and the earth is giving way under our feet more often than not. We are brave to get up most days, even if life seems smooth on the outside…to have an Oracle heart is to be sensitive enough to always have such depth and intensity within, and to be sensitive at all times to such greater movements. It takes courage, and remembering how courageous you are to be in the first wave at this time of great change. While we experience at times even devastation, and at times just that unending unraveling, it will help to remember to fall in love with any little moments…any little things you can. Give yourself over to that love every time you get the chance. It will fill you and feed you and nourish you. It will allow you to be a lover in all senses of the word, and the universe needs as many lovers as it can get.
In the image with this writing there is a woman leaning over her weaving, exhausted and perhaps heartsick. Above her, another woman is happily picking the apples from the tree that is so abundant, and that is going unseen by the woman weaving. Remember to pull away from the consuming weaving work of your life, however beautiful sometimes, and look for the fruit. Life is happening in the cracks, and pushing through the old walls…and we haven’t, seen anything, yet.
Love, Jennifer
