There was a movie, “Men in Black” where one of the main characters would cry and her crying would make it rain. She was so powerful that her tears caused the weather to change and the universe cried along with her.
Maybe we are all doing that now. Maybe we are all crying tears, tears of joy or pain. It does not matter which so much, as we are shedding the emotions that help wash away the past. Allowing more room mentally for living our best life.
Tears they do prepare for sacred transformation.
The signs of the tear drop have been appearing for the past four weeks. I found the tear drop in a ceramic piece of art, in a pair of glass ear rings and in a stone. The universe has been giving me signs, surrounding me for the signals that crying is upon us.
I am trying my best to fly high above the cloud layer, where the universe does not sheds Her tears. So as not to get my wings wet.
Sighing. Maybe it is time to get wet.
Time to let the rains clean the dust off my wings. Time to sit still in the branches of the tallest tree and rest.
As a child I remember watching the rain drops slide down the car window. There was always one drop that seemed to dance and move more than the others. It could be us, trying and vying for attention. Why do we dance and act the silly as children? Were we so desperate for attention?
I am no long desperate for the lime light. I dance for myself and the I dance to celebrate the achievements my baby sharks make in the pool. My drop sits still upon the window not moving. Watching.
Observing all the static actions, all the movement of messy dramas and I still still. Quiet.
It is cold and rainy here in San Francisco. It is unusual to have rain. I put on my flat cap, pulled my rain coat up around my neck and walked out the door.
The rain, it sat upon my shoulder. The tiny drops like that hawk, sitting in the tree branches watching the girl cry in the movie. It is enough.
So beautifully spoken. Tears have been a large part of the past two years for me. Both painful and cleansing but they refuse to leave me. I’m transforming but not like an outsider viewing the Catapillar transform into a beautiful butterfly. It’s more like a shattered heart picking up all its tiny pieces, desperately hoping to find them all, so I can once again begin to feel something greater than death. I ache in a way that only my tears soothe. Thank you my beautiful friend for being there and reminding me that we are all connected in this world, traveling wayward paths like the raindrops.
ReplyDelete