What if there's still a part of me frolicking in the fields behind my childhood home, sitting in the dim living room of that old beloved house eating saltines and drinking Wild Berry Zinger tea, on the cool back stone steps with an orange juice popsicle, on the front porch with my father waiting for a thunderstorm to roll in?
Still free, young, careless, confused, in love with life and those around me?
Still searching, still finding, still hand-in-hand with quiet safety?
Still around the campfire of my mother, sweet food cooking and James Taylor singing and darkness descending, comfort all around?
Still meditating looking east, still drowning in grief, still seeking, still deep in conversation, still watching a new life birthed, still singing on the swing, still pushing the swing, singing?
Still dancing and singing, still playing in the waves, still holding the sand softly in the palm of my hand, still laying my head softly on the holding earth, this ancient rock?
Then I can be joyful now, knowing the eternity of the energy of the moments passed, knowing what I create today will last forever, too. Knowing it is all connected and we are small and infinitely expansive all at the same time.
In gratitude to this wisdom from Iona, magical place of my soul and so many other souls, mirrors of each other, I can let go now with more ease, releasing into the wind what was and still is, and opening to the new, creative energy of Today, of this moment, of this temporary and infinite holy piece of time.