Beautiful illusions.

Transformation is constant. It is a current pushing forward regardless of friction. Nothing is still. Nothing is always. Perception is pertinent when dealing with any sort of change. Life grows, seasons change, time moves forward and the earth spins constantly.

Some transformations are obvious. Take for example the butterfly. An egg hatches into a beautiful larva inching along slow and patient. Only to morph into an elegant butterfly. Sometimes I wonder if they are aware of what they would become. If while diligently tranced constructing their chrysalis they had excitement about what was to come. Perhaps they just trust that the unknown doesn’t have to be negative or scary. That change is just that, change.

As we say goodbye to summer and hello to winter, perspective comes into play. Sure cold, slushy commutes to work and frosted over windows can mean a lot of hassle for a lot of people. Let’s think about what is really going on. Nature slows down to rejuvenate, restore and rebuild her life forces for the next year’s cycle. Again, perception plays a part here. I hear many people (guilty of this myself) complaining about “missing the sun”. Many people don’t know that we are actually closest to the sun in January. So when we are furthest away from our source of heat, we are actually warmer. Funny to think about really.

With everyone scurrying to find thing to occupy themselves during these cold months I’m thankful for my childish nature. Snowball fights and igloo forts are some of the highlights of the season for me. Sledding is a favorite too. Snow is a beautiful disaster when too much falls, but excitement still rushes through me when I through open my curtains to see a few feet fell overnight. Cooking everything, and “bad weather” excuses to stay in with family for bored games and movies. The long nights and short days do take a toll on my spirit eventually and as soon as January hits, I am over it. I long for greens and mud. I can’t wait for the smell of bonfires to come from my backyard, not out of my chimney. 

I am sometimes a hypocrite when it comes to transformation, and change. As much as I know that everything is in motion, sometimes I wish I could stop the clock. Whether to have one more moment with a loved one who has passed, or to slow the aging of my children. I sometimes need to remember what my advice to everyone else is. The clichés like, everything happens for a reason, or when one door closes another will open. Regardless if you tend to see the glass of water as half full or half empty it is just that, a glass with water in it. If you stand and ponder for too long, eventually it will evaporate.

I try to appreciate change as much as I can. I am an optimist at heart. It is never easy to face disappointment or loss but looking at things in retrospect can help. As sad as I am to see my children growing up so fast it will be nice to eventually have time to do the endless lists of nonsense I find interesting. Like quilting or refinishing an old dresser to look like a bench with drawers that I found on Pinterest. Watching my children accomplishing their dreams will be as amazing, as watching as they took their first few steps. Sure it’s scary not knowing what is around the corner, but it is the anticipation that’s important. Sometimes we all need to take a step back and just breathe. We are never in control of everything and that, that is ok.

 

 

 

A Dream

     I could feel the breath and smell the hunt. It chased me with incomprehensible speed. Between bushes and over the deep ruts of the field I shopped for an escape. My heart shuttered with panic. The briars ripping my feet reminded me of how delicate my life was. My being could not take me as fast as I needed to flee.

I must take flight, I thought.

    In an instant, I begin to hover, taking to the sky with an amazing thrust. Everything was black and white. I looked to my left and seen movement on my arm. Just then I began noticing the feathers birthing from my skin. Taking to the sky I slid threw the clouds. Closing my eyes I left the beast far below me. I could feel ribbons of sweet night air lathering my face with hope. Suddenly I stopped, like hitting a brick wall.
    Upon opening my eyes I found myself in a tree looking down onto a pond tightly wrapped in the arms of the field where I grew up. My reflection is that of a great owl proudly perched in the grandstands of a large willow. On the shore is my beast watching and admiring my fight. He is always there, strong, terrifying. Somehow within his commanding eyes I can find respect and honor.
    As our gazes met I was ripped from the tree diving to the water as if I were "witching" for it. I swam deep, so deep I could feel the pressure of a thousand vices crushing my mind. My ears were crying with a need of release. With that I changed, feeling my body except the destination that was not of my choosing. My feathers smoothed, and oil glazed my fur.
    A distant light grew brighter rippling in the movement of the waves.  Somehow I was going up. Quickening for air I demanded the surface. My face sprang to the sight of the moon. My lungs raped a breath of peppermint from the night, filling my chest with life. As gracefully as an otter I smoothed to the shore. Dancing in the aquatic play written by nature and performed by me. I made my way to the shore.
    I gripped the cattails I pulled myself up on to a bed of mint.  I submitted, stopped resisting, and gave myself to the fear of the dog. With dragonflies rocking like a mobile in the wind my long hair returned and wrapped around my shoulders. Goose bumps of dew peppered my naked skin and I fell asleep. Awaking in an instant to my colorful reality