Change is gonna come

Recently, I found myself catching up with two old friends. Lindsey (see post from May 10, That Girl) was my big-eyed sister who grew up in the woods with me from the time that I was 11 and she was 10. She was home from Florida last week and we hadn't spent any quality time together in over a decade. And Mandy, who became my closest grl when we were 19 and living at the Drift hood together in OC (see post from June 7, Ocean Pines) just recently moved to those same woods where Lindsey and I used to run. Near to the end of the Real Work as I am, these visits were absoloutey serendipitous. They were so meaningful and rich, and as Clarissa Pinkola Estes puts it, so very signifigant in gathering my bones.

So I been driving the backroads a lot, see, going over the old soil of where I'm from. Summer Solstice comes this weekend. The time when the sun is most close to the earth, our homeground. She breathes the sun, our mama earth, without its rays nothing would live. Photosynthesis wouldn't occur. Without the sun baking those leaf sugars into respiration our ecosystem would have no lungs to breath. No energy exertion on the trees parts would mean all the decay would no longer feed itself into the compost for new life. Life, simply, would halt. It would deteriorate into a mass of black goo. Holy primordial funk of what we're made of, but no actual making....

Like the sun, each of us has a light of consciousness, a quiet part in our heart of awareness. That wide silent space behind the chatter where I for one like to touch down find my self-connection. If you read me regularly you know this is my own understanding of God, the Deep Within. The place where I am aware of I Am, of that power of all that is....

I've been remembering the power of that light, and of the great cycles of life and rebirth.

And this is what our cells naturally remember right around this time of year. For the past two weeks everyone around me has been in one of two states: reorginization--which for some looks an awful lot like chaos-making; or dull low slump. I myself have been back and forth between the two. In our bones right now, implicit of the very air we breathe, the sun we crave and suck up, the ocean and river waters that cleanse us, the earth that at least here on the Mid-Atlantic Coast grows greener with every passing day, is the slight-touched knowledge: deep within us speaks the energy now that lay still unutilized or unfulfilled. And on the outside a hyper-awarenss of all that we have grown.

Sometimes, says Anna Quindlen, not to decide is to decide. In my opinion too many people slumber. They carry on with there outside lives endlessly ignoring the deep messagry from inside. And yet that is where the real power, that unquenched longing so much of us are searching for, resides. Those undecided decisions show themselves at a time like this. Soo too, the blessings. The quiet touching harmony of who we are.

Take heart, take stock.

Change is gonna come.....