hibernation dreams
glad to be here. glad today for sunshine and loads of fresh snow. glad my health returns after cold and another cold. glad it's warmed up. glad samuel's home, even if it's because of sneezes. we can read and watch movies, eat soup and put off chores together.
i feel spring tickling at me and i pull the dark around close. because hibernation is not complete at stormwell. i am still refilling my battery of adrenal stamina and will. i am still remembering to relax and relaxing so deep i think i'll sleep and dream. i hold visions at bay while making inquiries (seems contradictory, but both are moving in me, so)--new places to study, to teach, to learn.
looking towards next winter and a goal: to live at yasodhara ashram for three months. which means working and saving. not now, now is still february, time of soup and knits and winter undoings. but next month, march, when the rains melt the snow and the green dance commences, then i shall have my hands between tiny roots and my skin in the humid greenhouse air and i shall save a bit for that big 2015 dream. because a dear friend has invited me to help with her bedding plants. i am grateful for the promised close focus and communion (and the balance with preschool).
enjoying the rich pre-moon space where i close my eyes, ask a question and receive an answer. it quiets the wrestling. of course, the next, brave step is to act upon the insights. and that step, dear friend, is best left a bit longer--perhaps until march.
i feel spring tickling at me and i pull the dark around close. because hibernation is not complete at stormwell. i am still refilling my battery of adrenal stamina and will. i am still remembering to relax and relaxing so deep i think i'll sleep and dream. i hold visions at bay while making inquiries (seems contradictory, but both are moving in me, so)--new places to study, to teach, to learn.
looking towards next winter and a goal: to live at yasodhara ashram for three months. which means working and saving. not now, now is still february, time of soup and knits and winter undoings. but next month, march, when the rains melt the snow and the green dance commences, then i shall have my hands between tiny roots and my skin in the humid greenhouse air and i shall save a bit for that big 2015 dream. because a dear friend has invited me to help with her bedding plants. i am grateful for the promised close focus and communion (and the balance with preschool).
enjoying the rich pre-moon space where i close my eyes, ask a question and receive an answer. it quiets the wrestling. of course, the next, brave step is to act upon the insights. and that step, dear friend, is best left a bit longer--perhaps until march.
be well,
kate
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