In my neck of the woods it's a wet, soppy winter. With milder temperatures, my Winter Woman soul is feeling incomplete. There is a heaviness in the air and earth as the water element is having it's way with my beloved winter. I've been a bit bitchy about it, and after a day or so of grumbling I made myself look for the beauty in this slimy half-assed winter. You might know that I have a daily medicine walk with my furbaby Juniper in my towns' nature park. It's a ripe canvas from which to look closely at the wisdom of nature. I have been spending some of my energy there to shift the shit from bitchy to embracing.
The parks' trails are fortunately lightly maintained so all of the fallen leaves are left to rot and decay in their own perfect timing. With all this rain, it makes them a slippy-sliddy playground for practicing light-footedness as I wondered off path to seek out a spot that wanted to share some medicine with me. I found one.
I sat on the drenched land and watched the stillness of this scene with my eyes...hearing with my sacred ears...and feeling for my truth within the dialogue coming at me.
I saw how the many layers of leaves left to die their natural death created a thick blanket over the once green plants. I saw how in their process of decay, they are suffocating the innocent bystanders of what is on the surface of the soil. I heard the water of rain drumming it's songs of laying it all down in support of the composting. I felt a truth formulating that the roots of those grasses and greens are quietly sleeping under the surface and will be stronger than ever from this oppression...that in the suffocation, they bring their breath into the dark soil to reinforce the ability to inhale nutrients and exhale thicker roots.
I remembered in this moment a blog post I shared with you last month. The one where I got real vulnerable and shared that I didn't let my surgery recovery be hard. In the presence of this decay and the memory of my denial, a sweet awareness and acceptance unfurled in my bones. The denial is the suffocation. The difficult recovery is the decay that becomes food for my roots. And I have the power in this moment to let it all be. I can choose to celebrate and see the beauty in the decay...to bare witness to the casualties of change as those rigid edges die into softer beginnings...to trust that as a part of Nature I am not separate from it's processes and perfectly timed cycles. No matter how hard or difficult it may feel.
This decay is showing me how the last two years were playing out in the Earth of my body, Air in my breath, Water in my blood, and Fire in my spirit. And I have the power to let the acknowledgement of it being hard flood backwards in my story and cleanse it of the shame I bought into...so I can step forward into loving what and who I am now.
I'm learning something about denial...rather, a desire to be softer on it. It's a part of the decay that leads to a nourishing compost for what lies under the surface and will yet again grow green and lively. I'm wondering, envisioning, and hoping that learning to soften towards denial within me will show me how to extend the same to those I judge being in denial. Couldn't we ALL use a little softening to the things that hold us back? I for one want to better know myself in order to better know those I don't understand...so I can expand.
It's amazing what you can learn about yourself when you listen, look, and let it be messy. May you too, make yourself seek out and listen to the messages everywhere in this great mystery of Life.