I wake from a dream that I am on a riverbank and there is a huge crocodile lying in the sun. A woman in black lace underwear rides the crocodile as it submerges into the water.
I feel so sad again today. There is no reason to feel so deeply sad. I have a beautiful cabin in the forest, more food than I could possibly eat in my garden, a man who adores me. I have no obligations pressing for my attention today. I am healthy, I am warm. It’s a gorgeous, sunny autumn day.
I go for a walk through the forest and sit with my back to our largest and oldest tree, a glorious native sprawling kanuka overlooking our whole river and forest, and whom I have bestowed with the name MamaKanuka.
I imagine posting on instagram 'Meditation today be like...' with a video of me crying.
That feels exposing. Raw. But also liberating. My truth. How would others feel seeing it? What would I say to them?
What if it’s ok to feel sad? We are feeling creatures. We are alive. We can’t be alive and not have feelings, not have sadness. I want to celebrate my sadness, for the feeling being expressed. For the aliveness it bespeaks. For the love it contains. I’m ok. You’re ok. We’re all ok.
I lament that time, over a decade ago, when I felt grounded and strong and zen. I had a sacred circle of support to spiritually and psychologically replenish me regularly. I meditated easily, all the time. I had rock solid boundaries that preserved my physical energy and protected my tender heart. I had a sunny house.
I know I look back on that time as my ‘golden years’.
Is it good for me to keep looking back, and longing for a past time? I wonder if I will ever get back to that time...
“What if there was a different time ahead of you, a much better time than you could even imagine? Have you considered that?”
I hear the still small voice within me. Or is it the voice of MamaKanuka speaking to me? I feel an opening. In the forest and in my heart. The opening to much greater possibilities. The sun streams into the forest and the trees and river are illuminated gloriously.
I hadn’t considered it. The thought gives me joy, hope and gratitude.
Blessings to you MamaKanuka.
Later, I’m inside folding washing and thinking about the Pagan belief that turning widdershins, anti-clockwise, is considered to be unlucky. It’s not following the flow of nature’s direction, the course of the sun, and Paganism is all about working in harmony with nature.
Here, in NZ, we of the Southern Hemisphere would have to turn widdershins to follow the course of the sun. With a metaphorical foot and academic understanding grounded in my European spiritual heritage and one foot firmly on the soil of Aotearoa, I am torn between which direction to turn.
My heart tells me I don’t want to chase the sun anymore. I don’t want to be always trying to find the light, catch the light...trying to go back to the Golden Years. I want to turn to meet the sun. I want to face what’s coming, look Sun directly in the eye and meet with the full force of its light of consciousness. I want to meet life, meet love, meet myself.