Sunday, April 8, 2012

A bird curled it’s tongue and let out a loud trill.  The flowers on the espalier trees are just coming into bloom.  As I walk to the back gate, my legs brush against the daffodils and I’m very careful not to step on the crocuses.  It’s spring time in New England or should I say, it’s My Time.  Some people profess their love of the sun and want to go around the world following it and the heat and glow of it’s rays.  I understand that need, but instead of following the arch of the sun, I would choose to follow the Spring.  I’d like to find myself in a world that was always coming into bloom.  The act of becoming, moving towards something is intriguing.  What is it about beginnings that make me feel so alive?  What do beginnings have that middles and endings don’t?  Maybe it’s the promise that beginnings offer.  The newness of anything always seems to have sharper edges.  Beginnings are outlined differently.  Even the light is different at this time of year.  It slowly awakens to itself again and creeps toward it’s zenith on June 21 here in the Northern Hemisphere.  On it’s way there it seems to delight in it’s ever expanding ability to stay a little longer into the evenings and rise a little earlier each morning.  The light seems to take on a persona of playfulness this time of year as does everything having to do with nature.  

I remember when each of our puppies came home.  It was all so new to them for a certain period of time.  For about a month after their arrival, they not only looked me directly in the eyes, but they followed movements around my head, tuning into something that I no longer could see.  They would look above me, to the left and the right, their eyes darting back and forth as if they were seeing something in motion.  As they got older though, they lost that connection that they had brought with them.  I am assuming that they were seeing my guides and theirs, as well as all the other angels and fairies that flutter around us.  Babies see the same.  They still have that link to the nirvana they just left but after a while they loose it.  To what?  Survival skills?  I don’t know but I like that wonderful first stage where they are becoming, before they seem to have it all figured out. 

As I go through life, I touch upon certain core beliefs that ring true for me.  Metaphorically speaking, I have a sense that Seeds, planting them, digging them up and broadcasting them, are part of who I am and why I am here at this time.  Not only am I planting seeds of potentials, but I am watching seeds that were once planted in our psyches and souls, coming now to fruition.  I think that we have seeded this planet with the capacity of extraordinary collective growth and we are now in the Springtime of that growth.  There is a sense of incredible openness in the air, an openness that is drenched with a nourishing feeling of brilliant beginnings.  I am very aware of the bounty of life and nature surging all around me on it’s journey to completion and we of course, are a part of nature.  We usually travel from incarnation to incarnation as soul families and we as a group have answered the call to be here now.  Whatever it is that you choose to bring to the table is needed.  The energy of the planet would not be the same without you.  This is our time to shine.  I know that I for one, answered a Help Wanted ad in the Cosmic Times while hanging out in between incarnations.  The ad read; “Planter of Seeds wanted with the added ability to help awaken young seedlings, bring light to Planet Earth and impart it with as much love as you can along the way.”  Guess what?  I got the job.