Slow burn

I keep finding my way to the fireside, literally and figuratively tending the flames. It's one of our sacred tasks as women and there, here, in the moments of stillness and the quiet, I find things I thought were lost or unreachable. This is not how I usually spend February. By now I'm usually crawling along the floor feeling desperate.

kindling

The sun came out today and I'm reminded that as the seasons change, usually late March here, I'm prone to spinning off on some random enthusiasm or another and honestly, after a grim winter, I never really mind that much. But this year my intuition is telling me not to listen to the siren call of spring mania. I'm in a relatively good place; a better place than I have been in a while and I feel that this is an important learning path that I'm on. If I stay on it, I will find my homeland.

I have plenty going on already, including new things, but it's the still, quiet connection with my true nature that is a revelation. That  is the art of wildness: rediscovering who you were made to be and really being it - in your bones, your breath and blood - even if it's just for a while each day. Find time for your soul to dance with your body. I have more to write about this. I'll remember more about this.