She calls out the light in the dark of night, in purple mountain silhouettes that harken to castles of old where all retreated to safety, Her walls strong and rugged, Her stone solid and secure. She is never gone, always here, right here, beneath my feet, Her solid stone of fortress and abode. Sand castles reflect the macro and lend vision to knowing we are all One in Her as the tiny grains are mountains to creatures so tiny my eye cannot perceive yet I know they are there climbing their own mountains that trickle through my fingers as my life flows through Hers. She is the voice of the Infinite tat sings out our manifestations of myriad variety. Purple mountains like the chain of history that are worn and old or young and new or ground into sand. All the same in Her--all One. To see the elements in how they share their spirit with me through forms I touch is incredible--marvelous beyond measure. Still, I have to remind myself sometimes that I lose nothing and gain everything when change occurs--transformation is not loss unless I dwell upon and cling to the previous form. I close my eyes and can feel the subtle form still here, still with me, still near in space if not time, like the sand remains the mountain. A speck . . . seen from distance, mountains are bumps and ridges like the dry skin on my knuckles in winter that roughens and cracks. But bring love, lubrication, moisture and soften, elements melding, soothing the ridges, rounding the sharp edges into a soft bed of tissue, of earth, where the touch becomes the love, the nest, the gentle embrace. She calls out to change.
-------and then through the image She calls to another view, a shift in perception---------
Red sun, black sky, laser glowing through Her mouth, opening to the need for intense transformation. Signs. Within night dwells the dreams of future and terrors of past, or vice versa, and Her light transforms both into growth. Sky broad and dark and wildly spinning tornado across the land as She feels the need to create through destruction because all is One and to have the new something else must die, must give way, must recede in this elemental world that exists in the space of illusion. She cries out her anger in the blazing red sun “How could you do this to me?” Yet those are my words, my anger, my fear, my frustration with what humans are doing, how we are neglecting our duty, how we don’t honor Her. She is reflecting back to us that which we have created. A storm rages, we say, but we are the raging and she is simply the storm of re-creation. Gaia is the ultimate mirror and the infinite Creatrix.
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I wrote the following before I drew this morning’s Soul Card (blind draw, as always):
I sit under the sky and touch the Sun and know without a doubt we all are One. As I look out at the thick blanket of snow, caves forming under its many layers, pockets of space and dark within the bright white, I know we are all One. Pine needles that separate from their brothers are joined at their base to Her, in Her, and we are all One. We stretch up while grounding and we are all connected. We are One.
