Into the canvas:
I am leaving behind always being in conflict with myself about making decisions. I leave behind not measuring up. I leave behind feeling like a failure because of my primary relationship, no matter my other successes.
Some of the takeaways:
There is a resilience from continuing to show up.
The tears are cleansing.
I am held and okay, no matter what.
I know that there is something more to aim for. It’s not all over.
I feel a resolve to push forward into freedom and into what’s ahead.
I can embrace and support my body, as it has supported me all these years.
I’m perhaps at a turn in the path which is leading me closer to my goal, though like walking on the Labyrinth I can see only a short way ahead and may not be able to accurately say how close I am to the center.
I can pursue and express my passion.
My vision and heavenly connection have been a consistent source of strength, and now my connection to earth and to myself will deepen and will cause an increase in effectiveness and wider service.
Community continues to be so important to me and I will be able to be more vulnerable and allow myself to receive more—not just give. Becoming more visible sharing my own creative expression through paintings and teaching will also keep me on a vulnerable edge.
What I see in her: She is firstly connected to the Divine as her Source, with the Holy Spirit illuminating her spirit, and yet a crown is prominent on her head because she is sovereign in her person, in her ability to make decisions for her life and trust her inner knowing. She does have a scepter—a large paint brush to paint stories and create transformation, to call beauty to come forth.
She is awake. Her eyes are open as she watches and intently notices all around her and within her. She is also full of vision that connects to her creativity, her ways of knowing, epiphanies from on high, and even to future imaginings. She trusts her vision based on her spiritual path and past experiences, and the purpose that calls her forward.
She is starting to hear her own voice grow louder and more powerful and is aware that it affects others’ lives in healing and empowering ways. The passion blazes in her heart and emits warmth and light that radiates outward far into the field around her, though that is a result, not a goal she sets. Her sovereign throne is rooted deeply—into the waters, the oceans, and the ancient life-giving River that is never dry. She finds nourishment there as well as in the quiet dark earth and in the mountains which make her feel small, yet secure and belonging within the whole.
She has always been one who walked between the worlds, not quite fitting fully in the world of her peers. This is hard for her because she values relationship so deeply. In the dark spaces there are pools of pain, sorrow, disappointment, and tears. She knows her age and wonders if there is still time. The old story says, “I’m old. It’s too late.”
Though there are definitely feathers that have fallen out, she realizes they are making way for fresh healthy brighter colored feathers to replace them.
She remembers her father called her “Rose” while she was growing up. For no reason. He just made it up as one of his names for her. There is something old about it and something new.
My muse says to me:
Always wear ears of listening.
Always look for the new bud growing after the long winter, pushing up out of the dark.
Remember you are the Rose—that was not a mistake, but an endowment.
The new Rose is mature, fragrant, and expressive, not hiding or ashamed.
The thorns and the tears are transformed.
Be wild, be bold.
But you will also have great equanimity.
It is part of your nature, and will help your heart and your head to work together.
You have much to do.
Originally posted March 27, 2017