I’m standing between the old and the new.
Creating bridges from here to there.
And where exactly is there?
It’s all waiting to be discovered, unfolding in the unseen.
And I?
I am a passenger on the ride and a driver of the vessel.
Have you ever felt like that?
Post menopause.
What was is no longer.
Emerging into Second Spring
It’s a daily ocurrance of feeling the need to reclaim my ground as the untethered, un-contained, unbridled creative energy rises up from being in my tenderly wobbling changing body.
Without the regularity and holding of my menstrual cycle, at times it can feel as if I am blowing in the winds of the unknown.
I am the dancer and the dance.
Who is running the show?
Is it me?
I write to help make sense of things. It usually unearths more questions than answers.
For the answers I must dive deep within, quiet myself, still my mind - and listen.
Begin at the beginning , she says.
And where is that? I wonder.
Where is that?
It is here. It is now, she whispers with a smile.
BE.
Still and listen.
Pay attention to the tiny urges.
You will know when and how to move.
Now, I take a walk and remember how I love the trees and how much they love me.
I remember the solace in the simple tiny things that nourish me.
I remember that I don’t have to know.
