How this heart melts for all of us

As warmth makes even glaciers trickle, and opens streams in the ribs of frozen mountains, so the heart knows the full flow and life of its grief only when it begins to melt and pass away.

– Henry Ward Beecher

If you look closely you might see how the water droplets shimmered as they fell in light of the dying sun. Such tiny drops holding more than their fair share of wonder, like each and every one of us. And all the while, the snowflakes, how they swirled around me.

Some delight in experiencing rain through sunshine. Only here in the heart of the high desert have I witnessed sunshine through snowfall. I had no idea such a thing was possible when I was a just lass at forty-five when I first arrived. And only in the Narnia of Imagination have I witnessed a waltz quite like this one.

Tucked within these transient moments one will find an invitation to be swallowed into the awareness of just how very thin the veils between the two worlds are. So thin, in fact, one could easily mistake you for me. One drop falls and a whole world changes from one thing into another.

This earth is so fucking precious and yet here we stand on the brink, so many of us incapable of even seeing it or experiencing the healing touch of soil and light.

I just remembered a gorgeous communal offering of Doggie Maclean’s song, Caledonia…

Let me tell you that I love you
that I think about you all the time
Caledonia you’re calling me, now I’m going home
For if I should become a stranger
It would make me more than sad
This earth is all we’ve ever had.

Caledonia is a metaphor for whatever wakes you up. Can you hear the birdsong that brings you more alive? This is the heart of what it means to be a creative – to answer the call and the willingness to bring us home. 

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