nothing will ever be the same again
The days were getting shorter, the air was getting colder, the foliage was dying and shedding, the energy of winter was beginning to descend down into the Earth.
I looked out my sliding door window to the backyard and watched the sun setting through the trees, the sky on fire with vivid reds, oranges and pinks.
As I stood fully present within the scene, a reality landed clear and heavy in my awareness:
“Nothing will ever be the same again.”
I felt the heaviness of the approaching winter, of the lowering of the sun, of this deep knowing flood through my entire being. I felt a hot, tingling, shaking, blazing, yet numb, fire through my veins – the deep and unwavering knowing wrapped in debilitating amounts of fear with very faint hints of excitement and curiosity.
Fifteen months later, I stood looking out that same window at the backyard, however this time it was the middle of winter and everything was dead, still, grey, bleak, wet and ice covered, and silent… so, so silent.
I was standing in the middle of my living room, surrounded by nothing but empty walls. I had just spent the last few hours in a whirlwind of tears and sobs, as I washed and wiped, scrubbed and swept, prayed and blessed the entire house.
With every surface I wiped clean, I was also wiping clean the painful memories that lived within both the particles of the house and of my own cells. As I wiped away the painful memories with prayers of releasing, letting go, and apologies, I saw, felt and blessed the space with forgiveness, gratitude, so much love, and new beginnings. This was the most powerful and palpable ceremony and ritual I have experienced, as every memory in every inch of the house was alive and playing out around me. I was right back in them, able to rewrite and right the story from a profound amount of love.
The beingness of the house had been a vessel of absolute transformation. It was a womb of death and rebirth. Together we had changed the story. And it was ready to begin a new story with it’s new owners, a gentler story of transformation. And so was I.
As I looked out at the dull, grey, frozen, lifeless scene, I felt the resounding colossal truth of the statement that washed over me fifteen months ago:
“Nothing will ever be the same again.”
Absolutely nothing was the same as it had been.
No part of my life, of my being, was the same.
I had died a million deaths in a little over a year.
I was not the same anymore:
My beliefs, my passions, my understanding of myself and the world, the way I felt about myself.
Nothing was the same in the rest of my life anymore:
My work, my family, my home, my friends.
And just as the middle of winter brings a pause, the anticipation of spring, and the unknown of what will arise once the air warms and the ground thaws, I too was in a pause, anticipating the unknown of who would grow and blossom following this personal winter: the pause, the death, the descent.
And now as the subtle hints of spring arrive – the bird songs, the stirring energy beginning to ripple upwards from the Earth, the smell of the air, the longer days, the lightening of moods – I feel the stirring of the seeds within me beginning to rumble below the surface.
And so I wait, knowing and trusting in the natural cycles of seasons, of death and rebirth, of healing. All mirroring one another in a cheeky way to show me what is real and true. Showing me that while I hold the wheel of my life, the engine that runs it ultimately has the say in when it’s time to be still and wait, and when it’s time to go.
As the engine begins to start up again, I long desperately for that green light, the seeds within teasing me with all that excited, anticipatory energy.
What will emerge from the depths of the deep, dark, still Earth?
What will be birthed from the soil of my being?