and for a moment I fell into the rabbit hole again
Solitude is important. When we understand our connection to the whole, we are not alone in solitude. It is a time to commune with Spirit, with the universe, with what is at hand, with our deep selves, and our deep purpose. When we are alone- then our creative mission is revealed.
I took the little Dove to run some errands today. I caught us both standing against the shopping cart shaking our asses to the beat of the current Trader Joe’s soundtrack. I always have such a good time with her at the store.
It was my night with the girls. We had one infraction. The little Dove says we all handled it well in the end- a quick and explosive fight, a sweet discourse, and a loving group hug. She was overall content with the affair. I thoroughly appreciated her account. The older Dove was in agreeance. She informed me today, that “what I appreciate about you is that, I don’t know how to say it, that you use kinda big words.” I believe she’s referring to my flamboyant use of language. She and I share a love for people, storytelling, and essentially, grand and flowerful gestures of language. Oh the things that bind us.
After dinner, the doves decided to brush Quin while I put my TJ groceries away. I unpacked the perishables into my mini fridge and reorganized my one cabinet into a tiny pantry. I was starting to feel really good about my neat and tidy teeny abode. I took the old toilet paper roll off the slightly loosened wall mount holder, recycled the cardboard, grabbed a new roll and started to unroll it and when I turned away from the newly placed roll to survey my home, I had that rush again, what it must have been like to fall down the rabbit hole. I had a loss of air in my throat and sinking in my heart. I love this life and it was so unexpected as is, not at all what I had originally planned.
When you walked away from me, the ground beneath my feet shifted, an imperceivable fractal of a tectonic shift forever setting into motion something previously, not entirely, unexpected. You leaving so abruptly was the most humbling experience of my life. My life as I knew it was getting sucked into a black hole. When I caught my breath I realized I was being held by so many hands as I reawakened to what was grounded in me. Many things, mostly projections of the future, were crumbling around me. It felt like when I’m in the sweat lodge and everything is so damn hot, it’s unbearable, and I have to bend down to mother earth for her coolness. And it is so relieving, and then I can get through that edge and sit with the unforgiving heat of it all. The ground that I so desperately, with immense gratitude, cling to for relief- it’s always there beneath my feet. I just have to hang on to this one little bitty piece of earth, this faintly perceptible spec in the universe, and everything will be alright.
It takes me a couple breaths and some sappy Avett Brothers songs to catch back up to my life again- so different than I had planned it.
I go outside to sit on the little deck of my home, the Doves are sitting in the grass communing with Quin. The older Dove gets in my lap and whimpers, “I’m so sad that Quin will die.” “Oh honey, I will miss her too. I’m learning a lot about the life, death ,life cycle of things right now. Do you know that every moment is a death and a new life. Every moment is over as a new one starts. Its a miracle, true magic.” To which the little dove chimes in, “yeah, right now there is a baby being born, and a person dying, and baby being born, and a person dying.” To which I add, “And, every single person ever on this earth, was the only one like them. We have to let things go, so another new and amazing thing can be created and expressed.” We sat there for a bit, in the most lovely dusk, with that understanding in our hearts.