I died as a mineral and became a plant;
I died as a plant and rose to animal;
I died as animal and I was a man.
Why should I fear? When was I less by dying?
I’m in a holding pattern. I’m holding too much, way too much, I hold it so tight that I’m almost crushing it, crushing myself. And it feels so heavy.
Holding on too tight to things that are impossible to hold- life, this moment, today, the past.
I’m looking for the strength to let it all go, to lay it down to rest, to release it for it is not mine to hold, it never was.
I’m looking for the love and trust to say goodbye, to let it all go.
I’m dreaming of a lightness. I’m dreaming of things moving through and out, of twirling and dancing with the moment instead of trying to hold it. I’m dreaming of rest, of feeling fully supported in each moment- I don’t need to do the supporting.
I shut my eyes, I feel the earth beneath my feet, she’s soft and warm and willing. She whispers to me to lay it all down. I hesitate, but I know its time. I kiss all the things I’ve been holding, holding way too tight, and I give them over to her, I give them over to the earth where they belong. I place them on the ground and she receives them with such grace, I feel her smiling. She takes it all.
I feel the space created, I feel expanded. I sit awhile listening to her sigh- the breath of mama earth. I watch all the things she supports, I see flowers bloom and fade, I see leaves sprout and fall, I see all the life she holds in her depths. I see seasons come and go- she inhales, and she exhales.
And she too is supported. The stars, the moon, the sun, they support her- moving rhythmically with her inhale and exhale and I barely in a breath.
I inhale, hold, release, let go, empty, expanded, expectant, I inhale and so it goes.
“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.” – Rumi
Transient gifts of such wonder. We die with each moment so we may live into the next.
A million deaths in this life, a million moments to treasure, to breath in and live into, to exhale and release. Bittersweet cycles of life that teach us the beauty in each delicate moment. The dying in order to be reborn, renewed. The releasing in order to be expanded. The composting and fertilising, the transformation and metamorphosis, the spiralling, cyclic spinning of life. And in it all the humbling of ourselves into what is so ready to support us for we too are just an exhalation.
“Maybe death isn’t darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us.” ~ Mary Oliver
galia alena. visual poet. beauty unveiler, light huntress, moment caresser, visionary.
Join Galia for Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, Beloved Daughter, Goddess of Innocence and Growth, Hope
She intrigues me no end, this Queen of the Underworld and maiden Goddess of
Spring. Underestimated and over looked, dismissed as victim, child, pawn in the stories of others yet she is one who moves effortlessly between worlds, and dances in both the light and the shadow. She embodies the movements of life and death with such grace and isn’t scared to shadow mine. Dark feminine goddess, Goddess of Transformation, her gifts are as bountiful as the Spring she heralds.