Come to the Sacred Fire,
and dance and drum for your Heart,
as the day to day intrudes upon your desire,
let the Fire shield you,
from the intensities of the world,
and remember your Tribe,
who loves you as you are,
for then the Harmony that you found within,
will continue throughout the days.
It is passed the mid-point. I have experienced six full months of this year. I have been both inspired and completely devoid of creative thought; I have been a raging volcano and a gentle meadow; I have felt disconnected from everything around me just to find my way back to the Great Spirit. I toe the line between silent observer and active participant in my own life.
Thus far, this year holds nothing of what I envisioned for it, at least not on the surface – that is not to say that the things that happened are wrong in their happening. I cannot say, with certainty, what I wanted this year to hold – perhaps peace and love and happiness and all of the lovely things that all gentle-souled people want in life. However, I can say that the things I have been led to are capable of bringing about the things I wanted for this year, should I commit to them.
The seeds of everything I have wanted are still under the surface, they are still warming and working within the soil. Their roots are slow growing, it seems, and I spend a lot of time in the darkness with them. This is not the same cold, dark water that rises and engulfs me on a regular basis – this is a warm darkness, a damp darkness that inspires life to explode after the summer rains. It is the darkness that cradles us in the womb, the darkness where creativity lives, deep within our thoughts and souls.
I find change difficult. I often prefer to keep things the way that they are because I fear the instability of the future, should something happen to joggle the space that I occupy. And yet, this year has been filled with little changes, little quakes that make me stumble. On a deeper level, I understand that change is a necessary part of life – without change, nothing could ever grow – but I fear it, in a sense. Far too often, I ask what will happen? or I say what if this… and I am left to agonise over what the future holds. I am learning to stop myself, to smell the flowers and to hear the birds and to feel the wind in my hair, instead of considering all of the possible outcomes of any given situation. I find that, when I feel too stuck in useless ponderings, I begin to clean. It roots me to the hear and now, and I am able to focus on something other than my anxious thoughts.
I have decided to not actively consider things that I want to change this year, unless absolutely necessary. Even then, my involvement in the changes have been, and will continue to be, as minimal as possible. I want to see where the days lead me, where I am taken by not regretting decisions. Perhaps this entire year is a Late Spring/Early Summer year in my life, a planting year, a year of making deep roots instead of rushing to bloom before sleeping for another Winter.