Rooted in Earth and Spirit
I float upon still waters
Safe from any storms
Suspended on the edge of transformation
I am Spirit and Light
I am the expansion of Love
I am the Universe
Being born and reborn
As galaxies of Conscious Light
Spiral in and through me
I am the New
Growing out of the roots of all that has passed
Guided by Light and Love
I emerge from a heavy past
Into a new Lightness of Being
My jeweled wings are sprouting
I am poised to take flight
I am the one who is becoming
Rising up from the depths of my being
Ever higher into who I am meant to become
I spiral outward and onward
Before this imagery became part of my SoulCollage® deck, I wrote another blog about it having to do with the process of evolution unfolding through quantum leaps triggered by crises. It seems as appropriate to think about today as it did four years ago. There’s an intriguing process that occurs when the caterpillar is about to become the butterfly that involves “imaginal cells” and the emergence of the new from the old – even as the old fights back (see blog). As we say goodbye to 2016 and move into the unknown territory of 2017, may we become those imaginal cells, may we sprout wings and fly into our true human potential.
My latest art project is a series of illustrations for a spiritual fairy tale I’ve written. The story itself was inspired by a dream from many years ago and a phrase that has rattled around in my brain ever since, begging me to unravel its mysteries, to understand its meaning.
In my long ago dream, I have lost my four-month-old baby and I am beside myself with grief. At the memorial service for the child it comes to me that I will create the “Deep Water Leaf Society” and that will alleviate my grief and create healing for many others as well. When I woke, still disturbed by the deep feeling of grief the dream expressed, I was puzzled. My children were all growing up; I had no more “babies”. And I wondered what in the world a “deep water leaf” might be, much less a society of them.
Fast forward several years – seven, to be exact – and I did lose a child, my eldest son who was 26. During my deep grief, I spent a lot of time revisiting my old journals and filling many new ones with my journey to healing. Along the way, I found the record of this deep water leaf dream and it resonated deeply.
My son, Cameron, was born in April. Suddenly “four-month-old” became a metaphor for this child of mine, born in the fourth month, who I now grieved so deeply for. The dream seemed to hold a prescription for healing. In time, I wrote my first book partly as a chronicle of my own healing journey and partly as a self-help roadmap for others who were grieving. I titled it The Deep Water Leaf Society in honor of the dream.
But I still wondered, what IS a deep water leaf? Inklings of the answer had come through in the book I’d written, but there was more mystery yet to be unraveled. The question continued to rattle around in the back of my mind.
Over the years since Cameron’s death and the publication of the first book, my dreams and meditations have slowly been answering that question. In my new book, Fallen, I explore the answer in the form of a fairy tale or fable about the first Deep Water Leaf.
In it, my protagonist Alora falls from the Dreaming Tree into the strange new land of Lake Sojourn where she struggles to remember who she is. Will she continue to drift on the surface, always at the mercy of the elements? Or will she find the courage to face her fears, dive deep and reclaim her true power?
No spoilers here. You’ll have to read it to find out. 😉