Imbolc. Mid-winter. The prelude of Spring. Dawning.
Like early morning moments, with one foot in dreaming landscapes and one foot in waking ones, not yet ready to leave one world for the other,
Poised like that, my feet wide, and the expanse of two worlds within my reach,
At this moment, I have two knowings with me:
I know how to rest in the darkness of night. I know how to see what cannot be seen with eyes. I know the grief of depth and loss, to sit with nothing to be done. I know the wild abandon of my dreamer as she wanders with not a thing in sight! I have spent an entire season learning these things. And I have learned here again and again that I will always know less than there is to know.
But just now, as the days grow a little longer, I am remembering how to turn my face towards warmth. I am remembering my gift of choice and will. I am reminded by the buds on trees and the birdsong in morning air that I am not alone.
While I feel ready to walk onward, I smile and remember to pause at this privileged place:
I am beginning!
I don’t know yet. I can’t know yet.
Prepare or no,
I won’t know what I don’t know until the moment I don’t know it.
‘I’m sorry,’ I’ll say, ‘I’m new here. I’m just beginning!
Yes, again.’
When I do finally get on my way,
(But not yet,
Not quite yet,)
…but when I do, I will do so with two knowings in me.
One looks at what is here to see,
One looks for the unseen moving in everything.
Yes, for now I think I’ll stand here a little longer,
And imagine at all the things I get to not know yet.
Sometimes the unseen is hiding so close to the surface of the seen world, we just miss it.
Just as simply as removing our eyes from the morning light to the minute hand on the clock. We miss it when we leave our own rhythms for what we perceive or as other humans tell us is “too early” - “too late” - “too fast” - “too slow” (it’s January, it February! (now its even March already! where is my life changed? How far are you now???!!).)
Don’t be fooled my friend. Don’t be fooled by a culture that celebrates mastery, knowledge and certainty, that uses terms like “honeymoon period”, “dreamer”, even “naive” as putdowns. Don’t be fooled into going faster than you can keep your dreaming heart inside your chest.
You are right on time.
This beginning place is a sacred one, because we do not yet know the limits. Our dreams, visions, hopes, imaginings are not shaped or constricted by what others will undoubtedly tell us is “reality”. While the blank page may be intimidating, it is also the most spacious a space as paper can be.
I know this time can feel humbling, uncomfortable.
I feel uneasy to sit with the unformed stirring in my belly, the wordless niggle in my chest, the non-human communications I am taking in without understanding what.
But if I rush into forming, if I jump ahead into decisions, into the middle, I will miss what is being told to me here in this precious and, in my culture, often slim period of growth: the time where I get to be moved by my not-knowing rather than my knowing.
Because the truth at this stage is:
All our preparations here are at best best guesses. At worst, they are old habits that do not serve what is arising now. Like preparing for life to arrive - a new baby, a guest, a loved one in need of care, an animal or pet - we can do all we can to “be ready”; then Life shows up in her fullness and we undoubtedly learn what we could not have known yet.
So while it does feel good to have our darkest days behind us and the rising sun finally warms our face, the ground of your soul or soil may still be frozen and quiet beneath your feet.
Don’t rush my friend. Don’t fake your joy, pleasure or excitement.
Awaken. Begin…
…but do not dull the dreaming senses you’ve spent all past season of darkness and rest tending.
…do not go so fast as to miss the Life that is happening now in process.
Some tell me the spring begins when the days equal the nights. Some tell me the dawning starts with the celebration of fire, Imbolc, on February 1st. Some tell me the quickening of spirit begins when sap starts its rise in the maple trees.
I will be enjoying this slow awakening for a few weeks more, leading up to the spring equinox, March 21st, when I will write to you again.
Until then, you are right on time my friend. You are right on time.
Full Circle | Beginning