Let’s start with truth.
My body missed my chair while I was in France! It turns out that right angles and no chair arms are less optimal, orthopedically, than remote control footrests and all the angles just so.
Geographically, I’ve been home about five days… much of it spent coughing and trying to find ankles somewhere below my knees.
Mentally, emotionally, perspectively, I suspect I’ll never go back to what I used to think of as home again.
You see, home got a whole lot bigger while I was wandering, even though the view from my chair remains the same.
If you’re going to follow along – and I so hope you will! – the view from my chair looks like this:
There has been a lot of intentional curating going on with this view for the last couple of months.
The paintings which are teaching me the most in these days.
The courage to claim what they mean in my life.
Reminders of the path I’m choosing… one step at a time.
For this moment, let’s focus on the large bust on the blue bench. She’s been around for a while, now. Several months. Maybe a year.
She followed me home from the magical neighborhood place called Kudzu, where I often go to walk and wonder.
I wasn’t entirely sure why she insisted on being adopted. I just knew that she had a story to tell me.
(Time out for a reminder that art is both what is intended by the artist and what is received by the viewer… and – if the magic truly works – the message grows over time!)
She has a name now! It’s Minerva, in honor of the place my feet have just been called Minerve.
Also, in honor of my favorite Great Aunt, Emma Minerva. Just between us, she looks very much the way I remember Aunt Em which makes a whole lot of sense in the big picture!
Since she followed me home, she’s been mostly known as Courage. She has graciously received Courage essential oil on her forehead as part of many prayer requests.
Now, as the old saying goes… I know more! For I have walked the ground of Minerve. The place where many courageous Cathar people walked into the flames of crusaders rooting out the heresy of Love and Faith.
Part of the outcome of those tragic days was that nearly a thousand years worth of people grew up never knowing their stories.
I’m beyond grateful, though, that the stories live on, for those with ears to hear. And the perspective to listen!
And, you, dear friend, are already where this is heading… in a world where those who value power over Love are once again trying to hide the real stories of our human journey.
Which is, indeed, to say that YES, my filters are shifting even more!
And, while I’ve been resting up from my cosmic adventure with portals, I’ve also been planting seeds. Seeds of Intention. Of what is next. Of how to share.
A six-petal rose will certainly be involved. Quite probably ready to receive other learners. Pilgrims, even!
Obviously, there will be a lot more trust involved as the future unfolds. Everyday reminders that the story on the news isn’t the only story there is!
And, we do get to choose! May we teach our children well…
ps… I tried to hand Minerva the pen, as we often do with canvases, and she politely declined – with one eyebrow raised – and whispered that this story was mine to tell! More courage!
pps… if you’re reading along and haven’t joined the blog post list yet, now would be a great time! Deep breath… click annoying pop-up thingy and have an adventure! You are welcome here!!!
ppps… if you guessed that this whole story is ultimately about letting go of limiting beliefs – and suspect that you might be ready to lay down a few of your own, let’s talk! The calendar elves will set you up. 45 min. My gift. Real progress!