belovedness, revisited, again, for as many times as it takes

I awakened this morning smiling, remembering who I am, not unlike waking after a morning of falling in love, except the Love I have fallen into is my own.  Truthfully, it feels a bit disorienting, except in a reverse sort of way, as if I have been wandering confusedly in a barren and alien landscape, looking for something I believed I was missing, outside of myself, and now I am dwelling deeply within a lush landscape of bounty.

It makes me wonder how I got so lost in that search, trapped, believing that who I am is to be found outside of myself, within some identity or purpose or ‘doing’.  I do trust that the wandering deserts of my life are as vital to my soul’s journey of becoming as is this lush land of lakes, both essential legs in this spiraling (no way is it linear) life-death-life journey. I understand the necessity of traversing and exploring the dark, shadowy realms – realms I seem to be thrust into, never willingly enter- in order to reclaim pieces of my wholeness. But still, it seems I completely forgot some important truths about myself while I wandered there, and came to accept some decidedly harmful and diminishing ones in their place. I was a LONG time in that dark night, unable to hear her affirming voice of Love.

I can see in some ways how it was that I was searching for Love in all the wrong places, waking up in the wrong bed – not at all lying in the arms of one who honored the particular and unique sacredness of my soul. Gazing at my reflection in that shadowy bedroom mirror, was like seeing myself in the walls of a funhouse, my image distorted, reflecting to me brokenness where there is Beauty. Those refracting mirrors remain in my life, unable to see past superficial measures of value, and so what has been validated has been my shame, my feelings of inadequacy, my not-good-enoughnesses. Caught in measurements of beauty that have to do with the dominant cultural assessments of worth, I have discounted and diminished my very dignity.

Here, a wiser mirror, a handheld one perhaps, one that beholds at the level of soul,  is helping me to appreciate who I am. Other totems I’d misplaced are also here in this lush landscape – this enduring Vision of Goodness, that encompassing Knowledge of Love within All, this noble Quality of Soul, that Voice, whispering in my dreams, ‘You are Bound to Beauty’. Valuable pieces I’d discarded in deference to trinkets of quasi-belonging. And, of course, this Diamond I’ve been carrying, the one I’d thought was a rock tethered to my ankle.  Each one – the mirror, the diamond, the totems, now tucked into my medicine bag, along with those Golden Scissors given to me by Her. These I will tie about my neck to protect my heart from harm.

Finally, in the center of this woodland grows my Belovedness, fully mature and developed. That dried seed, deposited so long ago, the last time I traversed this way, is rooted and vibrant, thriving and strong. In blossom, here She is, planted where she would surely bloom. I’ll look forward to tasting her fruit.


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