Today I've cried. Buckets.
I can't even remember the last time I've done that. Maybe when I arrived in Steamboat Springs, CO in September of 2006 after leaving a man I had been in a relationship with for 32 years. For the first time since I was 18 years old he was no longer in my life, or so I thought. Last September he came back in with his wonderful, beautiful wife who I just love dearly. I've been learning that sometimes goodbyes really mean see ya later. I didn't think there would ever be a need to see him again until he was the only one who I wanted to be there with me. It was our daughter who brought us together again, and this time he brought his Leslie with him, and our family grew by one. Now I remember the time more recently when the tears flowed so freely, and it was the moment I saw his car pull into the driveway, and he came out to talk with me. I held him and we both cried buckets. His wife joined us. There is something so powerful in the act of letting love guide. I saw love operate amongst us like a soft, kind blowtorch. It cemented a bond that has deep roots and loving kindness.
And today I am remembering that sadness, that overwhelming feeling of helplessness turn into a sweet surrender knowing that there is nothing I need do right now at this very moment but just sit in the feelings that I'm feeling and know I'm okay and so is my world.
Last night my friend and I took my daughter to the train station so she could begin the next leg of her journey. I know some of my tears have a lot to do with seeing her off and having me still be in a state I've been wanting out of for a long time. I am sitting with that feeling right now and breathing through it as I "see" another place for myself with beautiful beings that are truly my brothers and sisters. While I look out the window right now and see the massive quantities of snow, I see in my mind's eye that raised-bed garden where I pick vegetables and herbs for the evening meal shared with my soul family. I see the dresses I make for the goddesses that enter my life and dance in their garments in the moonlight. I see the smiles on faces sitting around the kitchen table, spreading butter on the homemade bread and mingling effortlessly in the communal language. I see that all so clearly, and my tears dry up. I look outside at the vegetation and see growth and abundance. I look inside my heart and feel its expansion, and know that I am loved deeply.
And I breathe. And with that, I know that everything is just beautiful.