How The Heck Do I Hold The Space For It This Time?
I can tell you that something ‘new’ is on the way into my world, but new is a misnomer as I have been having flickering thoughts that trail away into the shadows for months.
I have sensed the prickling advance of my own thorny nature creeping in on kudzu vines invading my dreams for long weeks on end.
I have waited, working to be patient as these thoughts and dreams coalesce and collide into something more than whispers licking the corners of my eyes.
Holding space for something when I have no clue what it is, what it will be, and what it wants is difficult.
However, I know this is how Spirit and Muse work with me and work through me.
They tease and taunt with glimpses. They laugh as I ask for me. I doodle in my journal, trying to prise out the teeniest of pieces, only to receive not a single thing for my effort.
I journal, morning pages, afternoon pages, and after-dinner pages. I write and write and write, entreating them to come forth with knowledge, with hints, with anything.
I sit before a lit candle, meditating on the fervor in my brain, begging it gently, as compassionately as I am able, to come forth and enlighten me. Nothing.
My Muse giggles coyly and skips away to pick flowers in someone else’s field.
Spirit chortles and goes cliff diving with kelpies. There is no way I can compete with that, now is there?
Yet, I try. I hold a bowl empty within the space of my mental altar. I ask to be shown the way, rejecting the dejection that comes with the laughter of Spirit and Muse. I light the incense for my mind’s altar. I light the candles there as well. In my mind’s eye, I kneel. I pray. I ask. I plead. And then I sit.
I sit in silence in my mind as I sit in silence in the real world, the cat flopped across my lap like some furry vibrating prize lost in slumber.
Eventually, I know, it will come.
Maybe it will come all in a single flash. Boom! Here’s what we have been hinting at.
Perhaps it will take days, or weeks, or more, to fully realize what they are showing me, telling me, giving me.
Then again, once I have been deemed ready, maybe the Muse or Spirit or both will decide that this is no longer the path they wish to put me upon and they change their mind. I receive nothing at all about what I have almost seen, what I have barely tasted.
When that happens, new shadows peek in through the windows. New vines with different exotic flowers and fruits begin to poke and prod, creating new paths in my mind, just outside my vision.
All this time, I must remain calm. I remain grateful. I remain open. Holding space for something, whether it comes through to me or not.