There are those quiet spaces in between.
From where the old is still echoing and the new is not yet created. Portals. Transition.
Potent creative magic is pouring right here in the space between chaos and creation. A warm and familiar hum in the Air, the voice of Summer’s end singing that almost unnoticed song that rises from the slow, invisible process of a leaf’s turning from lush green to dark red, the soundless crack as it falls from the branch of its tree. The dance it takes on the wind before it finds the ground. When that wind turns exactly that slighty colder and wilder.
The white flower that gave up her space and withered knowing after her, there'd be a delicious apple.
Do you remember to know the events of those minutes, then hours stolen from the day, that gets darker again and has no more bright and promising Midsummer’s nights?
That magic.. is all happening now.
In the unseen, in between, transition. This undercover changing quiet time before the turn of the season. Before the seductive color explosion; the sensuality of ripe reds and yellow goldens.. fall days...
I find the same season within, changing the me I thought I had trained to be so well in this world. I didn’t really know her at all. She keeps being reall and surprises me with her strength, when I let her be this quiet. There are magical gems and pearls in the inwards journey to observing without judging and just knowing with curiosity. The sensuality of being everything, full grown. Being every woman. They're all in me.
Maybe just becoming more and more the One that I am? Looking at all the chaotic events, all the turmoil, the many many conversations talking within, making the energetics of the times look like a pleasant Sunday, wanting to observe and be with it, aware of it, awake in it, able to tell the story, wanting to heal love, wanting to act upon, dancing with life and exact occurrence at the in- and the outbreath. All at the same time. Which one to be, if not them all?
This quiet is bliss. Letting the seasons change. Letting them come back around again.
Not gone. Just withdrawing to rebuild. So much life in every season.
Even this quiet one brings abundance of magical stuff. Abundance of the new.
Soon comes calmer times. Softer waves and gentler motions.
To weave a web of stability. Safety. A family feeling. The knowing I’m going home.
Feeling all this, collected from consulting a place of knowing, accepting the quiet, the transition, the portal; the space in between.