You’re ready and its as simple as sleep

If I take my hearts advice, are we ever really ready? 

I’m in repair, I’m getting there. I already am in some regard. Some form, some aspect of me, all of me is always whole. Already full. Already complete. So why do I discount the moment? Why do I call forth words of boredom when there’s so much to direct and so much to weave and so much to build? So much to play with and so much that is just yearning to be explored, to be known, to be created. Stories that have not yet been shared, lifetimes that have not yet been experienced. 

I always wondered why we had to learn it all, again, and again, and again, each time we died, why not just be able to remember it each time we came through? Life feels simple now. It does in this day at least, this lifetime, this moment in time for I live an entire existence within a single day. I was born in a creat swoop, I rose and I bloomed like a flower. From the depths of the earth I took my celebratory and sometimes dissatisfactory breaths upon meeting the day. Snow pelted the windows and I cocooned to stay in bed, just a bit longer. The pillow soft behind my back and a perfect crispness for my skin to lay against. Anchor in, I hear. Into the breath, Into this moment, into this passing tale. 

There’s stories of spiders that weave the cosmos, and I wonder if I too am an apprentice to one of these, for each word that we speak, each moment that we move is part of our web. There’s a regret within me for not meeting the day with full glory, why was I dissatisfied? My bed is warm and the snow is a perfect blanket of peace though the wind howls and shakes the beams that hold my home together, and so, I painted roots. Deep and full and expansive. Like the mycelium network of fungi they reach the core of the Great earth, they extend out and nourish other trees, they tap into underwater rivers, crystal kingdoms, dark places where all things can become trapped, or where stored memories go to live until the fateful day when a root touches it and it finally comes to life again, through a passing thought, until it finds its exit. Released back out into the atmosphere like a pressure finally setting itself free, a deep exhale and release. A sinking back and in, a letting go. A recognition that it’s okay to take this life slow. And too, they reach into the core. These mycelium like roots, these strong and sturdy holders of the forest. The very center of this  great planet we got to call home, the heart, we get to understand as our true mother, who nourishes and provides for our every need as we understand ourselves to be worthy to receive it. 

I met the day with gusto and movement and a fast pace until I chose to slow down, to write what I had experienced in the depths of the night. Where these roots had reached, what they had pulled back up for me to remember. And I write, and I exhale, and then it’s done, and it’s gone forever. Except written and recorded but the experience itself no longer holds any great weight over my body, for it’s found it’s pressurized release from this layer. 

I lived more. I spoke on the phone with my family, I laughed. I made soup, I ate the soup and I felt so grateful to be nourished. To be provided for from the carrots and the onions and the kale. From the broth and the tea I gulped besides it. Raspberry leaf and lemon balm and mint and juniper. Elderberry and rose and the cedar I collected from the path in the woods. I moved my body, I breathed, I practiced staying present when things get tough, I kept my light lit. I’ve lived a full lifetime today. And it’s it’s been pleasantly beautiful. I’ve bathed in candle light and I’ve painted the stars and the moon and a beautiful shining oak tree. A few prayers came through, and too, so did the feelings, the emotions that move themselves through my body as if it were a porous bone laying halfway in a creek bed. I let them work their flow, though there where moments where I didn’t let go, and in those I asked for help, to make it swift and help me to see and feel clearly through. Within the wake of their passing I found strong bursts of clarity, of new routes and directions that I hadn’t known possible mere moments before, and they felt so true to me, to my path, to this destiny. They are known to me as home. 

I wonder if it’s ever really worth it, why we keep trying to go forth. and it’s days like this that remind me. They help me to remember the light that shines within and all around. That the animals around us have so much wisdom within their small bodies, that rest is the crucial factor to creating a healthy, balanced and peace filled life for ourselves. Too, we need to tousle and play. To run a round and to eat and to purr and to groom and get pets and attention. But resting, really laying the body down, circling up, and closing our eyes, that’s where some of the greasiest magic comes through. A slow life, a simple life, an existence so full to the brim with its senses open and wide. Love unconditional, it pours itself through.