I’ve had my head bent in, looking down instead of up.
This season in life has me twisting into spirals, and not the good kind where you drop into your truth and go deeper into your own knowing. More the game of twister type, which leaves you upended on yourself as your right foot tries to stay on the red dot while your fingertips grasp to touch the green.
You fall unceremoniously, like there’s no tomorrow, except tomorrow is coming- sooner than you think. And you’ll shake your mat of dots out into the breeze, redistribute, recycle, rehome colorful bits of yourself that were not meant to stick so your mat is white, your canvas blank with space for new shapes and shades and selves.
I’ve been trying to sit in peace and talk to the stars this season; untwist long enough to remember my place; find my way back to my core of grace. But sometimes I can’t hear my own thoughts over the rush of steps running through my brain.
Today I hear, I receive, I see.
I see myself in a sea of white, a translucent, rectangular board lodged in my mind. The symbolism’s simple, the image jarring, though not unkind. I see how my brain is simply split among too much, too many, divided in attention; my thoughts stuffed with obligation and stress and muddled cotton restriction.
I see how I’m going to make it through the next few months of busy, chaos, relocation, release. With my wooden sword and 3 heart containers I will be as Zelda- going from world to world, level to level, castle to castle, chipping away at challenge after challenge, one obstacle then the next. Slowly knocking them out, leveling up, until there is nothing left but an empty home, an empty office, and a one-way ticket to a new time zone.
I see myself flying like a bird. Migration is coming, but before I go South I must be here in the North, or I’ll miss important parts of my journey.
And then I see him. He’s been terribly quiet these weeks, absent in my need. But today he blows light at me. Sprinkles of star and white and peace and clean.
Chin up Stargirl, chin up.
You’re doing just fine.
For the first time in weeks I’m looking up, I’m dialing up, I’m listening up. And I see this season in life for what it is. Just a season, it will not always be.
I sit under that cloud of stars, complete in their dust.
Find what I need to start chipping away at the next level.