[Fiddlehead Hoops : sterling, copper & grossular : the unfurling green hope.]
When I woke up this morning, I knew just what to do. There was a lift in my spirit. The feeling that I had my fill of sleep. A decompression of my very soul. I guess this is waking, unfurling, the peeling back of night.
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Over the Christmas holidays, one of our smokejumper friends took his own life. It came as a great shock to everyone in our little community. I have been in the grip of sorrow, just knowing that in his last moments our friend was filled with such irrevocable despair, alone and without hope. I have been in the grip of sorrow, tangled up in the dark sheets of sadness, for all of humanity, for our earth, for the twists and turns in life and death. I don’t know what to tell you, except that I have been praying for you, even if I don’t know you, and lightning candles in my heart for you as I work and go about my days here, in the hope that you can overcome what needs overcoming, that your hearts can be filled with lightness, joy and that you will always have direction in this life…that you don’t ever stop seeking Love and Truth and Grace. These things are all around you. Everyday.
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Today the dawn was brighter. It is cold. The sky is blue and the mountains tower white against it. It is winter and the woods are full of sleepers, but I am wide awake and tenderly unfurling.