Toward the Wind
Go now into your garden, onto your veranda, open the window, stand in the open door and feel the wind.
This is the time to stand upright in the wind, feeling its currents flow around you without flinching or doubling up. Allow the winds of change to marry your skin, your hair, to draw water from your eyes and excite your nostrils
This is not the time to hide indoors, in the interior of your coverings, but to open yourselves so that the wind can uncover your hidden marvels. You have kept them under lock and key, under silk and velvet, locked in the drawer where your inmost treasures are, and – aha! – this is the time for which you have been keeping them from prying, unholy eyes, even your own.
This is the time of renewal. The winds will stimulate the drawing up and forth of your inmost self, will whip your coverings around and off you so that you will stand, glowing and naked to God, offering your authentic self with no more hesitation.
And you will discover that you are safe. Not only safe, but shielded from all that which you thought you had to hide from. The shield is the presence of the divine within you, no longer strapped into shells away from breath and light.
You may find that you stand here in awe of the light streaming from your being, or you may find yourself propelled toward the task from which you have withdrawn and toward which you now race with uncontrolled enthusiasm and dedication.
If, between one of these poles, you find an interest in noticing what the wind has removed from you that you no longer need, which no longer serves you, allow yourself to look about you and see what lies on the floor around you. There may be some value in seeing what, now cast off, you believed essential to your identity, safety, and integrity. The snake may not have an interest in examining its old skin, but perhaps we may. And it may serve.
© 2004 Leiah Bowden

summer-fall-winter-spring (remember the princess?)