Wishing a blessed Imbolc to all those in the Northern Hemisphere. I began to write a poem here but my internet crashed, so instead I will write this: To come from the middle of a blazing Summer in the southern hemisphere into the crushingly cold Winter of the Northern Hemisphere has been a shock in a physical, mental and spiritual sense. I am in the midst of a Winter tundra, with boundless emptiness within and without. I am so full of emptiness it is almost too much to bear. Yet, there is a small flickering, a small flame, a fertile seed I can feel within me. The soil is different here, yet I know it is capable of sustaining life, of letting beauty bloom. I know I am capable of being the sower and leaving the flower up to the winds of change, of time, of fate.
The number 222 and the crow have been appearing to me lately, spirits whispering to me that I should listen. A wise woman I met today told me that I should be listening to the world around me, to be open to what presents itself because often what we wish for manifests itself in disguised ways. My chinese cookie fortune today was: “You can’t ride in all directions at one time“. My energy feels potent and I find myself wishing to retreat into my shell, to tune my inner ear and write poetry all night long with candles and tea, yet I have an assignment to write that is due tomorrow. I feel unbalanced.
Plus a bit of Tchaikovsky seasonal love for you all:
Hmmm. I have a lot more to write, but I feel this is okay for now.
Blessings to all of you in the midst of Winter.