Dense drops of rain fall from the sky wetting my skull, as I dash across puddles in a cobblestone alley way. Quiet and gray, a soothing day brings the green trees vibrantly alive. A wolf appears before me. People usually fear him, but I stand here and ask, “what do you mean to tell me?”
The wolf says nothing, but I know he is my teacher. I feel this expansion of possibility. I look into his golden eyes. A rawness of nature fills my soul. He has been showing up loyally. Everyday for the past week. Sometimes upside down, sometimes revealing a break through in balance. He howls at the new Taurus moon. Perhaps he is responsible for hiding my pliers.
Lately I have been feeling the weight of the unknown. As things are transitioning, quickly. The instability tightens through my body. The desire to create art and a balanced healthy life burn from within. There’s no road map, but I am keeping faith in the unfolding.
I stair into the sheet of gray clouds trying to feel its space. It doesn’t feel as vast as a blue sky. The gray sky is muggy and hangs low around the earth. It makes me wish to hide under a blanket. I am thankful for it, because it excuses my hibernation. It gives me a peaceful surrender.
A little turtle appears in my left palm. She vibrates with the ancient history of Mother Earth. I think of Lakshmi pouring her coins into the still water. The sounds of gold splashing tranquilly. As her big brown eyes fill mine. The atmosphere wrapped in pink light. Sitting amongst a dance of sage, I prayed.
The turtle says,”I heard you. As I sat on a rock watching you practice. You felt alone, but I was with you.” My toes wiggle into the mud like the roots of a lotus. “You saw me ask the goddess for assistance?” I ask the turtle. “Indeed I did. Like the wolf, I am telling you to dive into your creative desires, but not to worry over the pace.” A deep exhalation, as life slows to match. I close my eyes, thanking the turtle as my heart glows internally green.
Opening my eyes, the turtle is gone. Invisible, only her spirit can be felt. A grounding sense, like the protection of a mother. Birds chirp symphonically amongst the red wood trees. “We are never alone,” I whisper into the wind. The wind whispers back in musical chimes. A fawn and its mother emerge from behind a tall patch of grass. The deer stops with ears wide open, she looks within me. Her eyes filled with gentle love and compassion.
Her fawn nudges at her nipple. Fresh from the womb. Chills crawl my spine. No matter the difficulty of life, you’ve always made it through smiling bright. Hold space for love and offer peace to others. The deer winks with acknowledgement of her message. Honey suckle sweetness softens the air. Then the mother nudges her baby and off they dart into the bush.
Stealth and quick, Lynx darts out low to the ground. Highly aware of unseen truths. Fear rises from my solar plexus, like a banished witch burned at the stake. Born again and unable to admit that she can communicate from a clairvoyant place.
“Silence,” says the Lynx in a hiss. What? I think. “Silence,” says the Lynx. You can hear me? I think. “Silence,” says the Lynx. I am not speaking out loud? “Silence,” says the Lynx. But how? “Silence.”
Lynx leaves secretly, but her mantra remains: silence, silence, silence, silence, silence. With a heart growing more curious, silence.
Thoughts try to break free. A battle of the consciousness. The oxygen begins to erase the tension in the brain. A refreshing breath of recycled life. A gift from the trees, filled with magic. The senses cool. The body begins to melt away in bliss. A surge of energy in the third eye.
A possum pops out. “PLAY DEAD!” He says. What the fuck, I think while trying to remain silent. “Play dead with your mind. Then you can use it to jump over obstacles. The thoughts are only a diversion.”
My brain erupts like a geyser. The pressure releasing to fuzz. The bird songs harmonize, as colors swirl about. A refreshing bath, refilled by goddess. Abundantly able to dive deeper into the soul.
Coming out of what feels like a dream or a hallucination, the landscape has turned completely pitch black. Night is here with la Luna invisible to sight. New space for her to fill. A seed of creativity to reap, for far off millenniums. This is the fruition of a dream.
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Lilac Laced Love 