Awareness of the five astronauts in the International Space Station circling above us has me aware of gravity and what it would be like to float without it.  I know that our bones need the pull of gravity to replenish and furnish our support, and yet, for just a moment I’d love to feel and play in the float.  Maybe a few moments.

A bird’s bones are hollow with no marrow.  I like the sponginess of my marrow, the pink liveliness where stem cells are manufactured and blood cells are produced.  I’m grateful for the dance and exchange within, and of course, we dance and exchange with our environment that surrounds.

This morning I stayed in bed, reflecting.  Cherries are ripe and abundant this year so I was thinking how my life is a bowl of cherries, a pie crust filled with cherries, and then, as guided by David Whyte yesterday on a Zoom call I ventured within wanting to delve into what David Whyte writes in his poem “The Seven Streams. He says:

Be a provenance 

of something gathered, a summation of 

previous intuitions, let your vulnerabilities 

walking on the cracked, sliding limestone, 

be this time, not a weakness, but a faculty 

for understanding what’s about to happen. 

A provenance is source, and I feel myself going deeply within to Source, thinking of science fiction movies where they demonstrate movement at warp speed as streaks of light until, and here I am now, centered in source, which is calm, the eye of the storm.  I’m processing all the changes occurring each day, the rapid changes, and I’m returned to the 60’s and all the unrest.  Memories surface – riots, protests, assassinations, and death – war and change, and then, well, I had children, and those beings light the way, and here we are on a new day, and still I’m with what it is to nest, a nest carefully built where eggs hatch and birds fly away.

I sit here now. My feet receive the ground as the ground receives me and my heart waves a flag of grace.  On January 1st, 2020, I set my intention for this year to be kindness, to be kind to myself and others, to honor compassion, each moment, each day, as much as I generously could.  I read that Trump hid in the White House yesterday afraid for the venom he’s stirred and yet he continues to stir.

Yesterday, on the David Whyte call he said that “Trump isn’t large enough to hold both sides of the container. He represents the Dark Masculine.”  The virus is allowing us to open to a planetary conversation that can help balance the representation that is Trump.  We’re coming alive to structures that have been holding us down and in place.

We reach within, and touching grief, may feel something being born.

As David Whyte said yesterday and I’m paraphrasing him in this post as this comes from memory and is my interpretation of what I heard.

“We’re seeing a manifestation of people coming alive to the structures that have been holding us down and in place – a good manifestation in a bad form.”  

Each leaf captures its own Light

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