The frigid air is here, dropping below the freezing point, arctic winds blowing the grasses in a shimmering dance before me. My body did not wish to move so everything rearranged itself. The owner of the cottage I had wanted to see in Mount Shasta had someone send photos which told me that it was not my place. I so need light and windows to breathe through. To sit in comfort and warmth while my spirit flies in the open vista beyond. The owner of the house share is off for ten days so we will meet around Thanksgiving to check out our resonance and for me to see the house. She is on her way to Whidbey Island, where I just came from. I get a kick out of these clues we are given as we follow our trail of light.
Who knows what will be real for me by then. I am witnessing my flight pattern. I notice that it takes me time to settle into a new energy, to feel into the landscape and find our rhythm together. Today I will venture out for the first time to check out the town and get some groceries.
Our world is moving so quickly, we can only stay present for what shows up. Allowing the movement, allowing all to flow through without attachment. I am sitting here watching the hawks swoop and hover over the grasses, seeking their meals. What beautiful creatures. Their flight in harmony with the dance of the grasses, the forward motion of the waves on the horizon tossing white heads against the blue.
What is my dance? My rhythm with the whole? I feel my heart dropping down with the hawk as he zooms in on his prey. Swift, sure, direct. To flow with the air currents, using them for guidance and support, then swift action when the desire appears.
Nature teaches us when we sit in her embrace. She offers up her secret wisdom to all who take the time to attune to her ways. This morning, I know nothing. The confusing spirals that swirled about me yesterday have cleared. I follow the hawk and open my heart to her message. We are dreaming the new into creation.