Opening to Light

The last two days we’ve had major tree trimming which opens the view and brings in the light.  It also means watering plants that were protected from the sun.   In addition we’re doing a major garage clean-out.  We’ll have drywall installed, and the whole garage painted white instead of the color of umber it’s been the 42 years we’ve lived here.   Change.  Energy.  It’s a feel, and needed right now to handle the political shenanigans and distractions of the one I will not name.  

Meanwhile our friend Hawk sits in the tree and watches it all.  

Today I’ll be out fertilizing and comforting all plants.  The cats have been traumatized by all the activity but are now happily sleeping, and my sacrum area, oh, my.  My sacrum area is certainly awake to all the bending, lifting, and carrying.  It lifts like a bow and shoots arrows of gratitude to connect the rays of prayer.

The Weight of Things

As a long-time student of Sensory Awareness, and practitioner of Somatic work, I’m aware of weight and working with, playing with, gravity, but in this plunge to purge, I’m even more aware of the weight of things, of the energy objects hold.  In the case of books, wisdom is stored, wisdom into which I can sink when I’m ready, but what I’m seeing in poring through shelves, and then, piles of books is this is a trip down memory lane. I see what I’ve learned.

When I came to somatic work in 1993, I opened into a whole new world. Intrigued, motivated, and curious, I delved into classes and books, my way to anchor what I was learning.  I couldn’t know enough, but now, as I go through this accumulation of stuff, I know I know enough. It doesn’t mean there isn’t more to learn, but there’s an embodiment and acknowledgment I feel and sense.  

The books can go onto others in search.

What’s puzzling though is the weight and work of moving this stuff along.  It’s physical, unlike the luxurious sitting in a chair with a new book, a new opening of space in the body/mind.

Right now, I sit here surrounded by books in boxes, and books on the floor, and shelves asking what now, for perhaps even a shelf has some affinity with weight and substance, and wonders what meaning opens for it now. 

I balance in the honoring of Feng Shui, the movement and shifting of energy and weight. I feel the change, even in the mess.

I think of a tree, water and nutrients flowing up and down, communication with other trees, and then, the tree is cut down, and sliced into planks.

Now I’m reminded of the story The Fir Tree by Hans Christian Anderson which has a sad ending rather than a celebration of transformation and change as we move, explore, weigh down, and release both time and space again and again.

I revel in this pause that allows my back to realign and then I return to the task of bending, shifting, and lifting to give books and shelves new places and ways to be, and me too.

What comes now? The invitation is sent.