“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.”
February brought my 70th birthday, and three days later I was wakened by an inner flow of words keenly addressing the vague unrest that for some weeks had been roiling in me. Just days before, in the midst of that turbulence an intuitive pull had abruptly landed me in a writing course already in progress. Though I resist discipline and was unclear why I was there, its invitation to the daily rhythm of self-unveiling –journal and responsive community always within reach– morphed into the perfect vehicle to support the dreamtime guidance that presented itself to me with such startling clarity:
“You are guiding yourself through a time of great change where nothing is as you’ve known it, where certainty or confidence in your familiar way of knowing has dissolved, and there is nothing to do but feel your way through the dark. You are afraid of not knowing, of not doing it right. But in truth, there is nothing here to be known or that can be known, nothing to get right or to fail. There is only being with what’s arising, accompanying yourself with exquisite, tender devotion.”
Bathing me in that ineffable peace with which the soul signals congruence with an action taken, those words led me to surrender –trusting that this stream of all possibilities pulling me along would inexorably wind its way, at any hint of my growing capacity turning out into wider waters beyond my own knowing. I’m reminded of Rilke who, in Letters to a Young Poet, said: “If only it were possible for us to see farther than our knowledge reaches, and even a little beyond the outworks of our presentiment, perhaps we would bear our sadnesses with greater trust than we have in our joys. For they are the moments when something new has entered us, something unknown; …many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens.”
At midnight some ten days later as I sat at my computer writing –feeling into the visceral sensation of what I was trying to convey, and simultaneously feeling for the vibrational resonance of the one word arising whose frequency exquisitely matches– a mockingbird, a newcomer to my windy hilltop, began singing his heart out. He continued for days –day and night– accompanying me. I thrilled to the beauty and intricacy and non-stop thrust of his delivery, and also wondered with a tinge of alarm: when does he sleep? when does he eat? He sang on impassioned, a one-of-a-kind froth of trills and whistles, warbles and chatters and chirps, mixing up the borrowed bits as he went, seemingly pressing me, instructing me, “This is how it’s done! just begin! and again! and again without-stopping leaping into the new…”
So here am I, also a burbling convergence of many streams… also an unbridled learner, a dabbler and borrower pulled along far afield… I too love the dawn hours, my receptors prone to catching its murmurings, its precious secrets… I too feel the subtle stirrings which, because I heed them, then show up as future transformed, in whatever guise, as invitation. Everything, everything, seen and unseen, is alive and always communicating. Such a long winding road this journey of mine… more years than I ever imagined would be granted. Now here at this juncture an inner pull to slow down and to savor… to pull out remembrances and intimations like delicate baubles held up to the light… to reflect and always to marvel at how magically all the threads find their place in the tapestry…
I so warmly welcome you who have found your way here. This post is an introduction, a welcome –and the page a tentative foray through the daunting thicket of WordPress . The look of the space will be changing. Experimentation will chip away this linear structure to make it more a home. What’s vital is to launch on this New Moon in Aries, the combined energies of Sun-Moon-Uranus conspiring blessings for any impassioned and exploratory endeavor. And yes! Mockingbird is still singing away!