Springtime, Easter, the story of the resurrection all mirror an aspect of ourselves that we can live everyday. One of the great trappings of this journey of human life is the labyrinth of the stories we tell ourselves. Storylines that have the same endings over and over, storylines that have the same characters and plot arcs, storylines that have themes like always and never. These stories in themselves shape the way we perceive our lives and in turn are the clay from which we shape our lives. When we look to nature and stories of greatness like the story of the resurrection we invite ourselves to remember our innate divinity. Like a tulip there are seasons when we are full and alive, and seasons when we are dormant, yet neither of these states are permanent. No thing is. All things are ever in transition even in the appearance of stillness. Each night is in itself a transition into a little death where we have the freedom to invite the events and cares of the day to dissolve away and prepare ourselves for rebirth. During our sleep is the great gift of renewal, and each morning is the opportunity to resurrect ourselves and begin our lives anew. In this way each and every day becomes the first day of the rest of our lives. The slates clean the story yet to be written.
This is the magic in the story of the resurrection, the reflection of nature as the days get longer and earth becomes warmer. Freedom is the gift we are all here to receive as soon as we allow ourselves to be liberated from the storyline that keeps us locked in the cave with no light. Let in the light, receive the gift.
“You were born a child of light’s wonderful secret—
you return to the beauty you have always been.”
Blessings to you,
With Love, Always, In All Ways, For Giving