Today's blog was going to be on the subject of December nights, the light from the stars and the direction they give, or something like that, but the day had other plans~

The day started with a pink orchestra showering over half the sky, filling the soul with faith, (if you like, pictures of this morning, are in the seasonal photo section.). Within an hour, the pink gave way to heavy grayness. A gray that isn't like the storm clouds that bode a lovely release, or the sharp frost of snow coming that bites and caresses the face at the same time. No, this cloud cover came with a pending, pendulous, pondering presence. A Heavy blanket of stillness. A heavy sense that feels, ever so fine about hovering and hanging out indefinitely. Did I say indefinitely? Yep, hanging overhead without saying a word. (I find I rather dislike the uncertainty of indefinite...)

I go about the busyness of my day, noticing the waiting, the lack of release, feeling fitfully always aware of the edgy overhead presence. I notice that I feel heavy too without the anticipation of graceful snow, shooting sleet, or winter rain. So I accept and practice breathing into the discomfort, allowing, and surrendering ~ Breathing in the taut uncertainty and out the gentleness I crave. I allow myself, like the clouds to Simply hang in uncertain balance.

I have heard stories of similar, if not darker clouds, hovering over distant horizons in western deserts, where they load the sky with imminence and possibility, yet never arrive. The wait that must create, the surrender that must entail.... That is a mouthful.

Just last night, on a walk by an unseen bubbling brook ~ it was quite dark being so close to the new moon. I felt the joy of crisp moisture on my cheeks, and knew the water moved with ease. The pricks of cold felt like water sprites dancing on my skin, laughing and musical. It made me laugh out loud to think of their joyful play. Just last night....

Now, indeed, in dull contrast, the air does not move freely. I can not find comfort from the skies.

So I turn within. I dig deep, where, I can still feel the feelings, but now, I can tease them out~ I notice that the weight feels like a kind of internalized dread, a despair at a primal level, a feeling of the turn of a wheel and the potential for death, despair and endings. I notice I feel heavy and slow myself. Ponderous. I notice that without movement in the atmosphere, I feel shadowed, aged, as though life is ebbing. So, noicing, I practice allowing for all of it: Breathing in, I surrender to the feelings, leaving judgement behind; I dig deep to an internal place of strength, an internal light, and exhaling, I offer that light to me and the earth.

Breathing helps me return to right now, right here, breathing in and out.
Discomfort? Ahh, breathing. Last forever? Ahh return to now, not future....breathing.

Breathing into my heart, as I write this piece just now, a ray of sunshine appeared across the written page. It disappeared just as quickly. Where did it come from?! A ray of light through the thick clouds; Ahh, I notice that light and suddenly, in being here now, my heart feels Lighter. And, now, I remember that the sun, just like all stars, and life, light and regeneration all exist, even beyond the physical vision, beyond these clouds.

Until I see it again, I shall watch for the starlight, star flame within, now.
And rest into the strength it takes to be here now,
Rest in my heart, where there is a flame making light now,
though I may not always see or feel it.
And rest in the believing in the light that brought that flash across my page.

Always ~ wishing you the vision of internal light... there are more writings of my musing on the Venus page for your perusal : ). Link above, or here: https://inlightofthetrees.com/venus-muse/