I love Sunday mornings. Lingering. Journaling. Taking time and space for me to see what rises up. Images - visual and written stir through my mind. The past week gone. The next not yet here. I sit in the sacred present. Only now.
Candlelight and gentle music. Fan blowing. Family sleeping. Coffee, hot and warm by my side. “Live with Passion.” Yes. Choose life. Choose me. Images call my name. Some already gathered. The girl in the pink sweater. She beckoned to me while I was preparing for my workshop. She was mine. Held in space until just the right time.
“Walkin’ on Sunshine.” My day yesterday. My life now. Inseparable from the universe. One moment folds into the next. Grounded. Whole. Light and airy. Held by the hand of God. The hands of my father. My ancestors.
Walking towards Ireland. Walking toward myself. I hold on and I move forward. With trepidation, not fear. Quivering, undulating movement. The pendulum of my grounded heart swings. The souls (soles) of my feet dance and move and walk on sunshine… with sunshine… through sunshine.
I am sunshine. Lucy of the light. Illuminated and free. My passion glowing and growing for others to see. I am Norah – the one of compassion. And Lil – life’s beauty. They surround me. Bold and emboldened.
The past and present collide and unite with the girl in the pink sweater. Head tossed back and laughing with glee. Trusting. Trusted. Held. Safe in the arms of my father and my mother. Grounded. They offered so much. Did their best. Healed me. Broke me. Made me.
Skipping and dancing, I share my light. My unique image of God. Belly full. Day arising. Lovely. Beautiful. Creating and created.