"Come out of the circle of time, and into the circle of Love" ~ Rumi
I awoke this morning, and looking out upon the grey and gloomy day, I realized I had hibernated quite enough for one winter. After being shut in, and more than just a bit shut down, I determined it was time to lace up my cross trainers and walk along the river's edge to make my way back to this place... this circle of love.
I walked quietly, reflecting on where I had been and on where I was going. I looked deeply into that liquid pool, the one reflecting the path that so many of us travel, and I saw that in many ways I had once again, come full circle.
For many years that revelation had me feeling frustrated and at a total loss as to what to do next. But at some point, as the years passed and the mistakes made were used as stepping stones of learning, I saw that once you were on the right path, coming full circle was actually a thing to be embraced.
Getting back to where we began, the place of being stripped naked like the barest of trees on a winters day, this is where we determined in our hearts that we are supposed to be. We have worked so very hard to shed so many misconceptions and lies, and it always amazes me when the frailty of my spirit has me once again retreating, and feeling as if I am making no headway at all.
I walked in silence along the river's edge, then turned off of the path as all of these thoughts swam before me. I walked with a renewed determination in my step until I reached a clearing where I was suddenly surrounded by the beauty of the winter woods.
I found a fallen tree, and without giving any thought to the fungus or the possible creepy crawly things that may be living there, I decided to sit for a while. I had no idea of how far I had walked, but that hardly mattered in light of how incredible it felt to be there, without another human being for miles. I could have let my mind wander into dark directions... me in the woods alone, no cell service, no pepper spray... but all of those images seemed quite ridiculous. I was deep into what seemed like a bit of a vision quest, and fear just never entered into the equation.
So, with my eyes closed and my heart open, I sat in stillness drinking in every sound that otherwise may have gone unnoticed. I heard a woodpecker diligently searching for his morning meal, and that made me smile, as I felt I was searching too.
I then heard an owl hoo-ing, and craned my neck to look in every direction, in the hopes that he was conversing with the woodpecker... do they do that? Do birds that aren't even remotely related 'talk' to one another?
I thought of how many times I had been in situations conversing with someone I could not relate to... no easy feat. I wondered if it came more easily to animals not bound by so many complexities. Or perhaps unrelated species do not interact at all.
I sat for the longest time, with my elbows propped on my knees and my chin cupped in my hands. How incredibly beautiful everything sounded... the wood pecker, and the owl, and especially the wind as it danced amidst the trees.
I offhandedly wondered if the trees really do come alive when there is no one there to see... I thought of The Wizard of Oz, and more recently, of Prince Caspian. I smiled at these things as I stood up and turned to stretch, and almost laughed aloud when I saw the tangled and gnarled limbs growing helter skelter in the middle of the woods. It immediately reminded me of the jumble, the inner turmoil that so unnecessarily grips me, grips all of us at times. And in this light, everything was suddenly put into perspective.
I walked over and gently ran my hand over one limb and then another, almost like stroking one's arm. I felt tenderness and a connectedness... to this tree, these woods, this moment in time. Here I stood in the middle of nowhere, but somehow, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
It was with a sense of deep peace that I made my way back through the woods and along the riverbed. After months of feeling somewhat disconnected, I finally had some insight as to where my emotional core had been hiding, and I viewed it much like a season of hibernation.
I'm not exactly sure what that entails, but I know the pieces will all come together exactly when they are supposed to and not a moment sooner. And I am totally accepting of that, especially after the morning that was just shared with me.
So as I made my way back along the path I have walked countless times, I pondered the soon coming Spring and thought about the frogs that slumber at the bottom of the pond when life becomes a bit too harsh to bear... they hibernate too. But today, my season of hibernation comes to a close, as I come out of the circle of time... and come into the circle of Love.
Happy Spring. xoxo
