The drums and flute are so slow, I can hear myself not think. I can see the eyes, sense the instructions and the gratitude. Finally sitting, listening. I heard a great line the other day, “Listening is Loving.” It stuck with me. Anyway, my listening is a sensual thing, not to the voices outside, but to the vibrations pulsing through me. I’m sure there’s no device to measure it, but it’s certainly as powerful as any rainstorm, fire or earthquake. After all, where all things meet their reflection.
Anyway. I did sit down, at last, when the chores were all done and I had no more reason not to. I took up this image and let it have its way with me. Signs, always, of things to come, maybe in the not so distant future, or I think already upon us. The cracking open has been underway for a long time, and now, just now, we’re coming to a new perch where we can start to see what we’re doing and where we’re going. Presents energetically first, of course, and read from there – tremendous change. We can all fly if we help each other.
