Soul Flow II
Photo by Susan Izard
Dear Soul Friends,
The birds woke me early this morning. It’s that time of year. The sun is rising earlier and earlier, illuminating the tender green leaves of the trees outside my window. Soon the foliage will be so full it will block most of my view of the early morning sky. I love to sit at my desk and watch the morning light shimmer through the leaves reminding me to pay attention to creation’s beauty. It’s a peaceful time of day inviting me to let go into the radiating mystery of early morning sunlight.
I will miss this view when I move. This office has been my sanctuary for the past twenty years. It’s a small attic room with floor to ceiling bookcases on three walls. My desk is centered in front of four windows offering a view of the treetops and my father’s old reading chair on its left. When I am sitting at my desk, I am encircled by the books and knickknacks that fill the shelves. My office is my nest.
It was amusing to see that the real estate agent named my office a library. I do love books. Only spiritual ones are in this room. I gave away about half of them a few weeks ago as I sorted and cleaned. I am only moving the books I know I will want. They are my friends and mark periods of time in my life when I was particularly interested in classical theology, biblical studies, women’s studies, the mystics, contemplative prayer, Celtic spirituality, the divine feminine, and any number of other topics. Mixed in with the books are a number of baskets that I have woven over the years, icons found on my travels to sacred places, a tea pot that belonged to my grandmother, my favorite children’s books, and an antique Tibetan singing bowl that I use when I record these letters. I even have a photo of myself when I was four reading my favorite book, The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton. This room holds the story of my life.
As I was waking up this morning and thinking about writing to you, I was struck by a feeling of sadness as I considered moving my desk from one room to another. I won’t have a nest in my new home. It’s not a nooky kind of place. There are fewer, larger rooms and both my husband and I will put our desks in spare bedrooms where children and grandchildren will stay when they visit. But my desk will sit in front of a bay of windows looking over a large meadow that exposes a massive sky. I have never lived by a meadow before and look forward to watching it unfold as seasons come and go.
The other day we had back to back house showings throughout the morning and into the early afternoon. It was hard to juggle our work schedules and leave the house with our little dachshund, Ollie, for each showing. Needing to vacate the house during lunch, we packed a picnic and walked down the road to a little bench by a stream near our neighbor’s house. It was tempting to be grumpy. It’s not fun to live in such an interrupted state of being and Ollie particularly misses his hours long naps snuggled into his blue fleece blanket. But it was a glorious day and the calming presence of the stream reminded me to let go into the flow of this chapter of our lives.
Flow will always invite us to our soul’s wisdom to stay present in each moment and not to fret about what was or what will be.
In his book, Benedictus: A Book of Blessings, Celtic teacher and poet, John O’Donohue, wrote a poem titled, For a New Beginning. The final stanza blesses the flow.
Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire.
Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.
As you travel through your week, may you be blessed by your new rhythm. May flow invite you to a refreshed understanding of resting in the now and may you be encircled in the wonder and beauty of Holy Light and Love.
Deep peace to you,
Susan
