Letting the magic meet me

In the luscious slow unfolding

The new year broke over me.
Fireworks brightening up the shadows.
And I began to remember a longing from a time before now.
A wish to fill my moments slowly.
Fully.
Lusciously.
An ache to take my time.
Take it and stretch it.
Gently in my hands.
So that each second becomes a landscape of its own.
With wild hills and tangled forests all needing to be explored.

I found myself wishing for permission.
To linger in the emptiness.
To leave the rushing behind.
And instead discover what wished to be formed.
By letting it speak to me in the dark stillness of it All.

As sleep began to tug at me, I also began to remember a notion.
Also formed in that time before now.
It felt warm and full.
A way perhaps.
One that I could start in the morning.

In the light of day, I assumed I would just begin.
Could just begin.
That I could somehow manage to dive in slowly.
That I could rush into stillness.
And when I began my usual bout of plotting and planning, every idea formed felt flat.
Like a facade.
Shielding me from the vast, unformed world just beyond…the very space I wished to be in.

After the frustration faded, I began to see that if I did not want to rush.
I could not rush.
Even into where I knew I needed to be.

So I have been sitting.
At the threshold.
Marveling at the expanse.
Letting the magic meet me.
Until…I don’t know.
I am not waiting to be ready.
I am not waiting on clarity.
Or perfection.
I am not even waiting.
I am simply here.
Knowing that when I am done the next moment will take me.
And I will allow it.

With everything and nothing~
Jo Anna