Sadness

As the light I explore gets lighter (self-love, yellow, aura, power, strength, explosion (rainbow of colors), goodness, empathy, knowing) the darkness gets darker, expands deeper (heaviness, reckoning of self-view, stripping down the noise, the fetal self begging for love and support, begging to be seen, begging to be felt, the muck, the seaweed, the sunken honey dripping inward.)

Raking through the swamp, with Baba Yaga as my guide of the darkness, my fear and The One Who Knows (intuition) on either side as we journey.

The darkness feels like a gift, like an opportunity to learn the parts of me that are begging to be seen. I felt a comfort in the heaviness- with the knowing that they are a part of me and I, them.

It felt truly restful, to let myself release to the heaviness. 

The seaweed wrapped around my being, but not suffocating, not trapping, teaching.

My sunken body, weighed down by molasses, the warmth of the drip, the relief of allowing the heaviness, my heaviness, to just be, to fill my being without fighting, my exhausted being thankful for the reprieve.

From the darkness, without exuding all my energy towards fighting it, I was able to rake through the message with my fingertips, stroke by stroke separating the helpful from the unnecessary.

Carrying with me that that serves me and leaving behind to die that that does not align with my needs.

The darkness, the swamp, the heaviness, the muck, has been my greatest teacher thus far. It is the thing that says, “Look here, go here, you are needed.”

It pulls my attention in the way in which it is needed, not in the direction of what I want to feel.

For the sake of emotions, we can hold no preconceptions of what we want to feel, of what we should be feeling. We can only arrive with open arms to every council meeting and let the people speak. A leader with no insight to the needs of her community will never be able to provide a safe and flourishing environment. 

And once the research had been done, there is a release in another form.

The anger sent through the message, erupting as he slashes through the seaweed, knowing now how and where to be directed, each cut of the weeds towards freedom calculated, detailed. There is no randomness in actions once they are founded in understanding.

As I rose from the muck, powerful in a way I had not been before. My being, being given the chance to rest, to recuperate, to comprehend, uses her energy carefully, explosively, with the Knowing of what areas of her life, of her self (what boundary has been crossed, what old wound needed tending, what anger, sadness, hurt had come up as a result of the threat) was able to yield her power in a concise way- wasting none on areas that did not deserve it- turning none of it inwardly.

Letting the heaviness speak as it wishes, with no war inside herself- she does not pit her own army against itself. 

And as I rise, chunks and chunks of the muck, the heaviness falling off of me. I thrash with power out of the water, the seaweed left behind in my wake. And I arrive Knowing the path- trusting my intuition to help me continue onward.