I find myself in this moment of in between.
Draught has rendered the Earth arid, infertile. The ground has paled; grass and leaves burned brown. No gold for the upcoming autumn. A restlessness. Indecision. Some life must be sacrificed for others to thrive; plants with longer roots are taking over where in previous years they had little chance.
Does life have to be like that? To have one thing you must give up another? For something to thrive you must sacrifice something else? At least for the time being.
Life seems filled with smaller and bigger choices. Picking one thing over another.
Sometimes we already know what we want. Sometimes we’ve made a decision on some level. The hard part is admitting it to ourselves.
Speaking the seemingly unspeakable.
This draught has made me acutely aware of sacrifice. Maybe not so much sacrifice, because that tends to take things into the martyr category, but putting something off – risking it may die in the process.
Trusting in the ultimate wisdom of the universe to provide, to guide. Accepting what will come and taking full responsibility for expectations. Met and unmet. Particularly unmet.
Finding joy in the process, in the uncertain. Living with trust, with a plan, but being flexible. It certainly takes some gymnastics.
The mind weaving a web of doubt. Clearing it out like cobwebs in the attic. Airing the room, preparing for something new. Making space.
It is difficult, but we must constantly remind ourselves not to become attached – even to our own selves. Changing with the seasons and years. I am not who I was several years ago. And in several more, I will be far from who I am today.
Nothing is constant. All is changing. That is the only certainty. The flexibility of mind required to accept that is great.
Maybe there is a reason I find myself in this place at this time. A land of tradition, conservatism, the old ways. But also a land filled with magic and witches.