Early Morning Fire on a Blustery, Cold Day
What would life be like had my ancestors chosen to live in harmony with the indigenous peoples here? Would we live in greater harmony with Mother Earth? With one another? What a pivot that would be!
When I looked out upon waking this morning my heart sank as the multiple of inches of snow forecast had yielded barely a trace. Mother Earth so needs a thick white blanket. I too would relish a snowy day by the fire.
Muse whispered blog thoughts as I began to stir and go about the morning ritual of building a fire. Rarely a routine, mindless task, I build the fire as sacred action – a blessed way to begin each winter day, literally on my knees as if kneeling in prayer. This brings me to deeply felt gratitude. Appreciation for the trees and the forests, the cycles of life, and all those who had a hand in getting these logs to my door.
As I settled in to write I thought of an African tribe’s practice of keeping a fire burning for generations as an unbroken connection to their ancestors. It is the wife of the tribal chief who carries this sacred responsibility. A feminine role of care connecting past to present and being present to the utilitarian gifts of the fire: warmth and cooking. Simply living. Simply life. Connection with those who have walked before. Connection with Earth. Being present now. Care. Simply living. Simply life.
I say a silent prayer that we so-called civilized humans won’t impose our “civilized” ways on them as has been done so often in history. Muse wonders with me: what would life be like had my ancestors chosen to live in harmony with the indigenous peoples here? Would we live in greater harmony with Mother Earth? With one another? Herstory would weave a different path. Can we truly pivot to live from the feminine? What a pivot that would be!
These are the wonderings that stir in me in this time of turning, of death, of rising new. Crevices of exploration that come when I step off the treadmill of doing, of accomplishing and simply allow myself to be. Muse nods in knowing agreement. These are the swings in my soul’s playground when I allow Muse to push the swing and simply sit and observe Zadie Byrd, sleeping in her ‘cone of courage’, allowing healing. Stillness and gratitude add to my warmth on this cold, blustery morning.
These are the gifts offered up as I break my decades old habit of saying ‘yes’ too often, jumping in to participate in activities that bring me no joy and are not in service to my Becoming.
Muse smiles, happy to observe the dots I’m connecting and, I suspect, impishly wondering how I will live into these choices in the days (weeks, months, years) ahead. I’m curious as well.
That’s where this post was going to end. Draft written, it was time for our morning walk. As I’m preparing to head out, the phone rings. Finally, a return call from our vet, who I’d called a couple days ago when I noticed redness in Zadie Byrd’s eye. I wanted to know if this was normal after surgery.
“No,” said the vet. We should look at it …” Although she said it wasn’t urgent, I sensed that for Zadie’s well-being and my peace of mind, we should go in today, regardless of the winter storm advisories and warning and reports of icy roads.
I fell into a bit of a spin. Mind warning me of the weather and associated risks. Heart saying, ‘go anyway’. After a few breaths and a short walk, the inner knowing rose: All will be fine it affirmed.
And it was just that: ‘fine’. Perhaps our angels cleared the way. Icy road conditions reported earlier had cleared. Two and a half hours and 120 miles under our belts, we are safely home with drops for Zadie’s eye and confirmation that the issue is minor and should clear in just a few days. I had pivoted from the morning plan, Wednesday morning’s blog commitment, to care for my sweet pup.
On the drive home, my thoughts returned to the blog. Muse pointed out that I’d done more than a simply pivot from plan. My early disappointment around the lack of snow held no regard for the hazardous driving conditions that such snow brings. Hey, I’m home by the fire, no problem. But, as I met the need to care for another, my disappointment shifted to gratitude for the clear roads that made our journey safe and easy. Such is the way of an unexpected pivot. What is dark in one moment becomes light in the next. This IS life.
Let Sleeping Dog Heal