I've come to recognize the seasonal nature of my life and feelings - I'm currently in that post harvest, pre-winter period of time. Wanting to sweep the field clear: harvest the plants, turn over the roots, sweep clean the debris. Ready the land for the still of the winter, making the spring planting easier.
The graphics I'm using this month have lots of meaning for me. I love blue spruce because the house we moved to when I was 10 had the most beautiful blue spruce tree in the front yard that I have ever seen. I was in love with that tree! I spent hours looking at it and sometimes crawling under the bottom branches. I loved to sit at the base, looking up the trunk at the spiral of branches, the sky peeking in my tree tent.
Cardinals are also very special to me. For some reason, I've always had a cardinal couple around me where-ever I've lived. When we lived in Indiana, our porch wasn't obvious to the cardinals in the area, and I did have to coax them to come around. I got a tray type bird feeder, and placed a slice of bright red apple with the sunflowers. Sure enough, a male cardinal caught sight of that bright red and came to investigate. The sunflower seeds made him and his mate happy and they moved in. I planted a few small sunflowers along the sides of the porch so they could enjoy fresh sunflower seeds after I got to enjoy the blooms.
I've later found that cardinals represent speaking with one's own voice in Native American tradition. That has been an important issue for me - I've found over the years that I struggle with finding my voice and then speaking it consistently. There is a difference between having equinemity and being a wimp - sometimes I don't feel that I choose well all the time.
The last symbol that is included in this page is holly. I've always loved the look of holly, and when I was pregnant the second time, I decided to name my baby girl Holly. It seemed like a bright and cheerful name, and I could picture my little girl fitting that name. Sadly, knowing if her personality would fit the name isn't something I'll ever know. When she died, it was such a shock - such a fierce disappointment that she was taken so soon. I felt so robbed - I had connected with her so deeply when she lived inside me - I wanted to know her as she grew and lived outside of me, too. She died just after Christmas, so holly is always bittersweet for me.
Bittersweet is a good emotion, though. One that I've always felt was the emotion of enlightenment - to be in awareness of the range of human feelings and events - the amazing beauty and joy possible; the stunning sadness and anguish possible - yet to accept and absorb all of that with peace. Holding the tension between the pairs of opposites; feeling both, yet not being swept away with either - equinemity, peace, love, compassion - perfectly bittersweet.
