Words of wisdom from a favorite author!
When we start at the center of ourselves, we discover something worthwhile extending toward the periphery of the circle. We find again some of the joy in the now, some of the peace in the here, some of the love in me and thee which go to make up the kingdom of heaven on earth. Anne Morrow Lindbergh (Gift From the Sea)
The Earth thinks in circles. She dreams in spirals and nautilus shell revolutions. She tells her stories across eons. Her epics are epochs. Rivera Sun (Winds of Change – book 3 in the Dandelion trilogy – www.riverasun.com).
Circling and spiraling amidst a number of atypical (for blog day) activities I’m finally settling in with Muse to discover what wants to emerge in this week’s Pivot.
As winds of change blow seemingly around the globe, here in the Sangre de Cristo mountains of southern Colorado, strong winds are blowing bringing dust, red flag/fire weather watch warnings, and wintry temperatures. Zadie Byrd and I are challenged to get out for our walks and keep them short, focused on her ‘business’ and our safety.
It’s the kind of intense wind that rips shingles from roofs, breaks tree limbs and trunks, and picks up all manner of unanchored debris. Having once been grazed by the outer branches of a falling tree that snapped as a sudden wind came up in the woods, I’m mindful and cautious. I sense something is being cleared. Blown away to make way for the new within me and in the world. That’s what winds of change do.
The change I sense within runs deep. A deepening of care – for self, for my canine companion, for friends, and for this community that is my home. The deepening care seems to call forth new strength, resilience, and trust. A felt sense that life is unfolding as it must for the evolution of consciousness, mine individually and ours collectively as a human family that is part of the family of all Beings on the planetary Being herself: Gaia, Great Mother Earth.
In conversation with a friend and spiritual mentor a few days back, I was sharing this deepened sense of trust and greater discernment. “With trust comes greater capacity to love and less tendency/need to judge,” she mused. As I allow that to settle in deep, I feel I’ve made a leap in my being.
In some way I sense that the dog attack has guided me to the center of myself that Lindbergh speaks of. I wonder whether I needed such a dramatic call and quickly set that query aside, grateful that for the support and the rapid rate of our healing and recovery. I find joy in caring for Zadie Byrd and for me as well as in finding ways to thank the small army of friends who blessed us with an abundance of love and care. I find peace as I come to terms with the event and discover that I harbor no anger. Rather I feel compassion for the canine that attacked and for its human. I feel love for those who supported me, creating community, our own version of heaven on earth.
Although I don’t have a nautilus shell to put to my ear to hear the earth, I listen to the wind, to the birds, to the trees. I converse with Zadie Byrd, knowing all of nature has stories to tell and wisdom to share as we navigate the winds of change. May I listen well from the center of my Being to the center of the Being that is Mother Earth.
Mother Earth callling … Am I listening?