Falling, twisting, letting go, sailing, floating… safe. At least I hope so.
Sometimes it’s harder than I like to “lean on the sustaining infinite” (quoting Mary Baker Eddy in Science & Health), even though I think I know it will be there, supporting and upholding me.
September is a challenge: from Dennis’ birthday on the 7th, through the 1st anniversary of his death on the 20th. In between are 9/11, then my father’s, cousin’s and my grandmother’s birthdays (all are gone), followed by my father’s death anniversary, then 2 days later the wrap-up of my first year as a widow.
Yuck! Too much death to celebrate in one month. Which leads, in a backways way, to me knowing, without doubt, without equivocation, that I must just lay back and trust Spirit, because I certainly can’t move through it all on my own steam.
So I take deep breaths, sit with the losses, let the peace rise up like an warming up-draft from the deep valleys of God’s love. So I float, gentle as thistledown, to a soft landing in the now. Safe, beloved, and at peace again.
And so it is.