Lynn Hollyfield~: January 2014

To come inside, a door has to open and depends on how heavy and how long it's been shut. But when something or someone is calling you to do so, listen and pay attention. The way will become clear. After an experience at a Native American ceremony, a forgiveness ceremony that truly changed my life, doors opened with the remembrance and sacredness of being human. There are times we hurt others and times when others hurt us unknowingly or with intent. Once we accept this and forgive ourselves and others a huge, a rock solid, heavy door can fly open like a screen door blown open by a brisk, Spring wind. Doors have many ways in and many ways out. Invitations come to go inside where it can be warm and cozy or to a dark, deep place, not often visited but holding wisdom if you are willing to go there. Hinges creak, locks get stuck, keys are lost and often the location of the door in unknown. When we are listening, traveling, walking, running, shifting, often then we find a door not seen before but now right smack in front of us, just waiting for the knob to be turned and the lock to be unlatched. What doors are being opening? Which ones are left closed? I wonder how many have not been found yet. Only ours to know.

Two Years

In two years, where will I stand? My oldest will be off in college and youngest just starting HS. Life will certainly roll on with bills to pay, laundry and such. But what about the real? What about the dreams? What about the love? What will be moving through my veins to help me create? What instrument will entice me to learn a pretty melody and sing a new song? In two years, will I be stronger in spirit and mind and body? These winter stars are seemingly more bright and clear. With persistence, they pull to tell a story. I find myself, under them, in the cold early morning quiet, as I walk to start the fire in the cottage. I can't help but stop, gaze up and breathe. Breathe deeply. In goes the cold, winter's air full of the beauty of every early morning sky. Many mornings I have stood and gleened and wondered. I hope in two years there is more time to take in these precious, fleeting moments of time that work my roots and reveal my place. A place of vastness and unknown, of opening and understanding, of passage and movement...of love. The birds are sounding their morning calls. Today it is more a disgruntled bird song to accompany the sudden cold and icy rain. Yesterday's melodies had been sung as they would in early Spring. The robins had come yesterday only to go today, somewhere, to wait out the storm. Sort of a false start to Spring and new beginnings. Wanting to initiate but needing to wait until all is aligned. Two years, seems like a long time but the way the last one flew by, it will here before we know it. And me? I want to pray and work with an open heart, mind with intent to give-to find my place in the world. Happy New Year everyone! (Inspiration from writing prompt-Peggy Tabor Millin and reading a Mary Oliver poem-Journey -read on)

The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles,

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop

You knew what you had to do

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

The Journey