I feel myself getting stronger. Preparing to spill forth my truth. This usually happens. Like the bag of Amish friendship bread starter on the counter my new neighbor gave me....it's bubbling and fermenting, taking shape and preparing for it's next stage. That's me right now. Circumstances beyond my control have brought forth this new me. Sure, It's still me inside. That same girl you may have come to appreciate or love or enjoy to be around. I'm usually the girl to bring the fun. But I've made some tweaks. My heart as been ripped out, stomped on and then handed back to me as if saying, "Here, do with it what you can now."
But I come from a long line of strength. I come from a long line of hard workers. And those genes, those genetic ties....they tell me to get up and get going. To dig deep. To run my own race. To lean in to these new feelings and to feel the pain. Wallow in the pain. And by wallow I mean not to be depressed but to let the love and light of all things Mom & Dad wash over me. Wash over me like a rebirth. A baptism. Because in my darkest hour I choose to rise again and learn how to fly with broken wings.
When I run down the trail near the library, near all the huge oaks I look up and try to find my hawk. The hawk sighting lets me know Mom is with me. I summon that hawk. And just recently that hawk was carrying a mouse or a bird in it's claws. And I just rejoiced in the beauty of nature. This crazy circle of life that I am a part of. The sun shining warm against my skin. The smell of grass in the Spring air. The garage sale signs indicating the weather has finally changed.
It's coming. I can feel it.