Time to Redress

The blizzard arrives, lashing and roaring as some kind of retort from the divine feminine when denied her sacred power. Blowing wind slips under door frames and sculpts unmolested snow into the manifestation of what longs to reawaken. Everything else stops. She is no longer playing the games of the masculine or imitating his thinking. She is no longer putting aside her own wisdom on relationships and her deep, untouchable sense of patterns belonging to creation. There's been an imbalance of epic proportion and it is time to redress.

Before turning on lights I stand at the wall of french doors in the dark. I can feel the polar chill pulsing from the glass to my bare arms. Stalwart oaks and pine bend like long, black fingers waving in the dark. There are no tracks anywhere. I remember the time when I first discovered the power of a fully balanced feminine and masculine union and frankly, as I stare out into the darkness listening to the storm devour the landscape, I know in every cell of my body that it is said balance that will right the world we navigate.

Life isn't about me or you or other. It is, or could be, the celebration of deep, ancient, eternal connectedness. But reader, you need Her. Blessed are they who have seen the truth in this mystery, for they will lift her many veils and be rewarded.

The dog instinctively knows it is too cold to go out and remains curled up in her bed. Coffee brews and the automatic grow-lights click on for all the plants at the bay window. In this predawn dark, I do more than remember the one who showed me I was alive in my own right, complete and perfect and brimming with the power of creation and mystery; I crack open my rib cage and invite him in for a long, nurturing rest. I've got this now.