“And she called from the edge of the fields, from the edge of the stones in the streams, from the edge of night, and from the edge of dreams. Calling out into The Void, she asked for a glimpse of the dance of her lifetime. She wanted to know that she was not alone. And there, in her stillness and silence that eased the ache in her body, heart, and soul, was the answer she sought. Before her stood a Goddess. With the golden threads of life swirling around her, The Goddess offered Her hand, reaching out from the deepest darkness…”
~ Renee Bedard, “Songs from the Earth” series, Class 2, “Calling Ourselves Back Home”
Autumn seems to stir up a lot of reflective moments for me. There is an energetic shift that draws me deep into my thoughts this time of year. Perhaps it is the cooler days that offer a path to warm and fuzzy blankets at night. There’s a chill that sweeps over me as the wind picks up crunchy leaves, tossing them into a dancing spiral at my feet. The energy makes me come alive. The golden light that falls upon us a little earlier each day holds the power to make time stand still, even if it is just for a moment or two. Hot tea, flickering candle light, the scent of warm spices in baked treats all have the power to enchant me. October, “The season of the Witch”, they say. For me, that is true. I certainly am not a summer witch. There is something instinctual that comes alive for me in the month of October. It stirs within my core. There is a calling from my innermost depths that entices me to explore the shadowy passageways within. The yearning is influential and familiar. It leads me to a place beyond any physical place; to a time that slows to an almost complete stop that is beyond any human comprehension of time. It is a location that cannot be discovered or charted on any store-bought map yet, it allows many paths for me to uncover it. It is a destination that I am still learning about and I am curious to understand. This place is meant for me. This place is my heart and what I call home.
In the whispering winds of October, I find it important to take the cues from nature all around me. The trees withdraw their energy from their branches, allowing the leaves to turn and paint their beauty against the dramatic blue and grey sky. Squirrels are busy storing food for the winter, preparing for long and cold nights. The fields, once full from the bounty of summer, are now ready for the last of the harvests. What was once green, lush, and bountiful now turns fallow, withered, and brittle, waiting to be cleared away once again. The landscape is slowing down, preparing to sleep and dream as it turns inward. I know it is time for me to follow suit. It is how I will find my way back home.
We can call out from our edges, our borderlands, into the vast Universe to find ourselves. We can search high and low for the wonderous stories that certainly exist in the wilds of life. We can feverishly open the door to our heart and mind, waiting for something beautiful and unknown to answer our call. We hope for such wisdom and insight to leap and bound towards us so all our answers will unfold neatly. With our arms open wide, we are ready to accept this elusive missing piece to fill the hole that is there somewhere deep inside of us. We are ready to be filled with some piece of knowledge that is beyond belief. We assure ourselves that we may not know what it is, but we will ‘know it when we see it’ because ‘it is out there somewhere’. We can be convinced that we will understand the mysteries of our journey in a lightening flash before our eyes. However, we can wait and wait and even wait some more for the perfect answer to arrive. Yet, it doesn’t always appear. Why?
How many of us get frustrated when that piece we long for does not appear out of the blue before our eyes? How easily confused are we when something familiar, maybe even once discarded, limps its way across our path with a tiny golden thread, asking for a second chance of understanding? Do you refuse the message? Do you shun it? Discard it once again? Yell at the powers that be for not sending your most perfect answer? Or do you pause? Do you reflect? Do you look inside that wounded whisper of an answer and see where the thread leads? As beautiful as it can be, life is messy. There are no easy answers, if there are any answers at all. That is difficult to remember, I know. It is an important one however.
In the excerpt above, a Goddess appeared before the woman with golden strands of life around her. She had been calling out to the powers that be for answers. When she was still and silent, out of the darkness, a hand appears, offering a thread to find her answers. Was the hand from a Cosmic Goddess or was the hand offered from the woman’s own hidden depths? It is a natural reaction to look outward for the answers. Everything around us has an anchor in a physical reality. Yet, looking inward through the reflections of our own mirror, the answers are not always easy or illuminate us with lightening speed. Although there is something to be said about answers received from the outside of us, they are not the only ones. The answers that bubble up from our own depths help us understand who we are. All the experiences that we’ve had helped to create who we are today. Those lessons can hold a deep meaning for us. They can even be greater than what someone else can give us. It is the learning, experiencing, and harvesting from our own inner planes that shed light on our hearts, exposing our own wisdom. That is a gift that only you can offer yourself. The pieces of answers that are harvested with honest work, love, and care also help to create who we are. It is my hope that when you reap what has borne fruit, gather seeds for the future spring, and burn away what doesn’t serve you, you will illuminate the intimate recesses of your own heart, guiding yourself home. Maybe one day, that hand that appears before you from a Goddess or God will be a hand that you offer to yourself.
Be well,
Renee Bedard ~ The Whispering Crow
The Whispering Crow 