Seasons, and cycles. Birth, death, shedding. Constant shedding of wombs, of things. Letting go of what is no longer ours – homes, loved ones, careers, friends.
My older children are spreading their wings. Not fully free, still returning to me – but with more time at dad’s, and in the public school system for the first time.
And it is so hard, this letting go. I find with every new phase in my life I cling to that which is no longer. Am I afraid? To change? Maybe. Charging into life with a passionate Aries heart of fire, sometimes I move so fast it’s hard to feel stable. And then perspective slides in and I burn up again. All the old me that is hanging on, I have to honor her. Sometimes it is with ceremony, sometimes with tears. Often it is just acceptance, and time.
And it’s funny, because you’d think – after so many cycles I’d know – that this dying, this entire process – is to prepare for the new. To make room for the new. To welcome a new beginning. I wonder why I stare at the ashes so long that I miss the phoenix rising.
Note to self: prepare for rebirth, and let the ashes be what they are.