I
meant to say in my post about the lake meditation how right it is that we
should feel ourselves a lake, since we are all of us 60% water.
But
as a Gemini, I am an air sign (if of dual nature), and I looked up at the sky
by chance late yesterday and was immediately sent into raptures by the fine
clouds, cirrus like tracks in snow (appropriate, since they are formed of ice
crystals) or a boat’s wake in the water.
Clouds of drift and motion, clouds of gentle, wayward thought.
And
today is the sun’s, this day of solstice.
The earth is basking in it, turning to it as its god—creator, savior,
way out of the darkness. We all
want to believe that we’re responsible for bringing it back each day. (See “Calling the Sun to Rise” here;
and also Carl Jung on being badly in need of a symbolic life here.)
So
I am all these elements, and more.
I resist fire, but love it in the winter and when burning sage. I long to have a copper fire pit out
in the patio. I burned my
citronella candle yesterday, sending the bugs away.
I
am mixed metaphors, I am a collage, pantheistic, water, air, and earth (and
then reluctantly fire), revelling in it all.
"Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly...." (Pablo Neruda)
images: Christie B.
Cochrell, Lake Louise
Cirrus Clouds, nasa.gov
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