Then every now and then they are there… the old patterns. The echos that still have enough sludge weight behind them, that even though I see them coming it’s a ridiculously short amount of time before I find myself up to my chest in a stinking bog…Caught between knowing that thrashing will make it worse and not wanting to hang around in it.
So that’s the beginning of the year! I was snuggled and happy within a perfect moment of laughter and love…like a sneaky moment that spilled from my dreams straight into reality undiluted…I soaked it in even as I could see the edge of an old pattern approaching.
I wish I were wiser and I wish I were stronger…and I can hear the universe giggling that I will be…that’s the point.
The news these last few days, full as ever, of images reminding me that forgiveness is the only way truly, permanently out of conflict, both external and internal…and I feel it deeply every image I see…just as deeply as I feel my tantruming two year old self.
And I find I am a different person again…I am full of the familiar, the patterns and desire to fight, smash and conquer, the overwhelming waves of ridiculous love that I witness clean and mend and repeatedly amaze me…Yet I find my mind and instincts are full of new images too. Perhaps it’s an age thing, perhaps it’s the changes rapidly occuring in our local High Street and all over the news that have a lot to do with it…but already the passing hours of this new year seem filled with a larger sense of responsibility. There is work to be done for sure…and I’m excited about the possiblities and challenges we are being handed as a community.