As autumn progressed, I found aspects of my existence literally falling away, like the leaves on the trees, revealing deeper structures and patterns in my life. Mid-autumn, I lost my job and gained time to explore my passions. With “not enough time” no longer being an excuse, I began to explore my resistance, procrastination, fear and confusion around taking these big steps to living life in the image of my heart and being able to financially sustain myself with it.
As autumn came closer to winter, my beloved, precious cat, who gave the most amazing heart-to-heart hugs, got rapidly sicker and sicker and then passed away. As sad as it was and as much as I deeply miss her, it felt like a rite of passage. I learned that death really wasn’t death, but a transition. After she physically left, I felt the presence of her essence in my life continue on, like a guiding light, encouraging me to go for “big joy”.
More things fell away, or at least have been begun to, like my need to control the moment and my believing the stories in my head that keep me stuck, helpless and in despair. As these things begin to shed away and I am more fully present, it is like I am stepping into a new dimension, where problems are being solved, except not from the mind that created them. More accurately, it is like I have given up trying to solve any of it and have allowed a deeper, greater force to fill me and guide me.
And now it is winter. Ahhhhh, winter. In the nakedness of tree branches, patterns reveal themselves to me, like the dynamic between myself and a beloved family member that was disempowering for both of us and also the love and desire for both of us to create our precious connection differently.
The other day, I was at the park with my mother. I laid in the snow, feeling the vital life force of the earth. Going deeper, I felt into the essence of winter. I looked up at the bareness of the tree branches, some lined softly with snow, and felt such deep peace. Their quietness and delicacy, not bursting with life and green, spoke to me of slowing down and letting go of the clutter in life to go within, and ultimately, birth something new. The snow I laid on felt like a hibernating blanket insulating the ground and preparing for the new life to blossom through in the Spring. I felt the water from the snow seep into the ground and nourish the soil, like streams of life that carry on, even in the cold.