I got to see the Mother’s face last night, washed clean, renewed and reborn. It was lovely. A brilliant silver disc high in the sky, with clouds drifting swiftly across it.
This is a picture of the final portion of the eclipse, there was just a fraction of her face that was still covered. You can’t see it here, my phone didn’t take great photos, but you get the idea. This was the view from my driveway. Looking up, at that moonlight, I wanted to lie back in the snow and let it wash everything from the last few days, weeks, months, away. Instead, I stood, dressed in my jammies, and wrapped in a blanket, under that silver moonlight and prayed.
I prayed to the Mother that I could let go of the anger and depression that has been plaguing me for so long now. That I could be revitalized, under her luminous gaze, and renewed of purpose. That I could take off the mask that I wear most days, my “professional” face, that I show to most everyone now, and just be me.
And I received an answer.
If you want to be renewed, first you have to Let Go.
Two simple words that are nearly impossible to actually do.
Even now, I had to stop writing this, and click over to something else for a minute, to collect my thoughts, and stop when an obstruction clogged my throat. Fear. It blurs my vision and stops my thought processes for a moment.
I have to let go of all the pain of the past, and I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I can’t move forward, grow into what I truly want to be, until I take this step. And to be honest, hanging onto some of these past pains has kept me going in tough times. Spurred me to be the opposite of whoever it was that hurt me, kept me from making the same mistakes more than once.
Pain can be a useful tool. It keeps your hand out of the fire, shows you why it’s a bad idea to slide down the stairs head-first, and that a spoonful pepper is not like a spoonful of sugar at all.
Binds you up in your own chains of memory, and tosses you into a room, locked within yourself, full of all the dark shadows you have created.
I am not responsible for what others hold onto. Their issues are not my baggage.
I am only responsible for what I have carried with me all these years.
And somehow, some way, I need to learn to break this chain.