This time last week, I was driving towards rural Somerset, the clouds hung low and grey in the sky reminding me it was still the dark half of the year.
Persistent rain drummed against the windscreen. I didn’t mind. I was taking a welcome short break, with no demands and nothing to think about. Not even the BIG decision that had my thoughts swinging to and fro like a pendulum for the past forty eight hours. As the landscape began to change to a mosaic of green fields and rolling hills, I re-tuned the radio and resolved there and then to leave any thought storm behind.
It’s strange how we do this, as if thinking more, or thinking harder, or longer about the decisions we need to make, or the worries we have, will lead us to the solution.
The truth is, we either know the answer in this moment or we don’t.
It’s that simple.
New thoughts and ‘aha’ moments, come when we least expect them to.
Somerset gave me the freedom to unplug and ground. I experienced a deep healing, I walked the muddy footpaths and fields adorned with a smattering of snowdrops and catkins. The earth felt softer underfoot than it did at home. With each footstep I felt my senses heightened, more present and connected to Mother Earth.
I was also in Somerset for Imbolc. The Celtic festival that celebrates the first signs of the coming Spring. To celebrate I attended a Shamanic trance dance, where you dance blindfolded, using the breath of fire, the rhythm of the music and the nature of intention, inviting in the new and creating the conditions for new growth to emerge.
I danced with a fire in my belly and awoke the next morning feeling vibrant and renewed. Pulling back the bedroom curtains I was greeted by, a cocktail blue sky, an indication surely that the wheel of the year is turning.
Back at home I have felt overwhelmed. It has taken me several days to settle, to integrate the re-found parts of me I’d ignored and neglected and to come back to the active pace of family life. I didn’t want to rush, be concerned about time or think too much. I wanted to remain present, in flow, surrendered.
Eventually, I flicked the on switch to my lap top. Nothing happened, just a black screen staring back at me. I chuckled, could it be a sign maybe? Encouraging that slower pace, or a reminder that although the sun is approaching we are still in this resting, energy conserving season of winter.
There was little I could do in this moment to rectify the laptop situation.
I put the dog on his lead and took him for a walk. Walking along something occurred to me. An ‘aha moment, the obvious answer to my big decision revealed.
How simple was that.