It’s been a challenging week over here and I’m still in the midst of processing everything that’s happened, humbled and grateful that after a very unfortunate incident, my family is safe and sound.
We’re in the midst of clearing and grounding, and while I’m sure I’ll have more to say in the coming weeks, for now, I’d like to share with you some words that came through me over the past few days as a wave of tremendous storms rolled through our valley.
If you feel called, speak them aloud, proclaim them! As you do, allow the image of the storm to wash right through you, supporting you in cleansing out whatever remains that you’re ready to be rid of as the cycle turns again.
With the Dark Moon night quickly approaching, I encourage us all to be willing to release, to let go, to sink down, to become empty… and in doing so, making space for our own renewal, regeneration, reimagination.
In our letting go we discover how to hold on, in our grief we discover how much we love, in the darkness, we have the opportunity to reach once again towards the light.
Great Mother Stormcloud.
Great Mother Stormcloud.
Won’t you rain your sweet surrender down on me.
Let your waters pour out and cover the landscape, as my salty own join the flood.
Return them, sweet mother, to the depths of your ocean,
Give them back to feed creation, fertilize the next conception.
Mighty Mother Thunder.
Oh, Mighty Mother Thunder.
Could you shout through my longing,
Would you roar through my heartache,
And rumble through whatever’s left of me.
Oh, How, Mother Lightning.
Now, Mother Lighting.
Illuminate my sadness.
Strike right though the well of grief.
Charging all the sky,
With your elec tri ci ty.
Oh, Mother Stormcloud.
Please, Mother Stormcloud.
Won’t you rain your sweet surrender down on me.
Here I am,
Your small daughter,
Vessel.
Cracking open.
On my knees at my reflection,
In the vastness of your love.
. . .
. . .
