There stands in the backyard of the house we currently lease a grand old lady, an amazing paper bark
I feel like She is near done with her Earth Journey and I have been communicating via meditation
Well, early this morning around 1am , I was woken up and told a story by this gentlest of beings
Yes, I know it is Solstice and Yes I do get amazing dreams , but this was the sweetest most lyrical voice reading me a story
so here it is
As I lay wakeful early this morning in communication with Grandmother Paper Bark she told me a story
A story filled with such power and love I was compelled to get up and get it saved and shared
She sat alone at the airport, alone amidst all the rush and crush of people , coming home, leaving home, greeting family, lovers farewelling lovers…She sat alone, deep within her own personal loss
She had arrived in Stutberg filled with hope, high expectations and a trembling of excitement. All which gave way to a deep sense of loss, sadness and confusion.
Her luggage was lost, not really lost, she was re-assured , but safely winging its way to Copenhagen
She sat in silent desolation , her precious manuscripts, the reason she had come to city, to present her heart in words to the publishers and maybe, just maybe the world, now it was all gone
She thought of the two precious vases, that she was not supposed to buy, of everyone who asked ..is it not enough vases already… little vases, the gifts she bought for herself… the tiny gifts of love to herself..each marking a time of completion or joy or achievement, each an echo of her love for herself
She thought of her window in her tiny apartment at home in Stockholm , where one glorious arch window , fitted with mirrored shelving held her precious collection of vases
Some strong and sold, some overflowing with glorious colour, some translucent, some fragile, each representing a gift of love to herself
She thought of how the sun would light them up , so that the tiny unit was bathed in their reflected light, how they complemented each other, and no matter which vase was your focus the others appeared to illuminate and highlight the beauty of the one
She had felt the tug of her heartstrings at the thought of the loss of these two tiny vases, like unto her children, grown and lost to her
Oh how she had loved these tiny vases
She felt a tear, was it truly a tear, one precious shining droplet of water, sliding out of the corner of her eye. So long had it been since she had felt the kiss of tears on her face
She brought her hands to her face, as the dam broke within her heart and silently the tears slid down her face, softly, gently tear drop by tear drop
She felt her heart crack open and the tears became a river which became a torrent of silent grief
She had held back the pain, the fears, the impossible hopes and dreams, for so very long , more years than she could remember…. And now they flowed silently , creating a river of healing
She felt her heart grow lighter and more peaceful …her body seemed to soften as if a great weight had lifted. She sat and cried and cried and sat ..until bringing her hands away from her face, she became aware of the tiniest of jars that she held
A precious gift for a dear love who was nearing the end of a long battle with illness, she had picked up the tiny pearlescent jar , because it reminded her of times shared, in her luggage was the softest of cashmere jackets, for Autumn could be chilly in Stockholm.
She had received a message on landing that the dearest of friends had left on her journey home to the angels and so the tears continued to flow
She had reached the shore of her grief and felt somehow empty and refreshed and alive again, when she glanced at her hands she found the tiny jar had caught her tears
She headed to rinse it in the bathroom area, but as she got close , her footsteps slowed, no she would keep and treasure this gift
She pictured it sitting among her beautiful vases , the sunlight turning it into a sparkling diamond .. either side of it her precious vases…for she knew now…they were not lost..only off having an adventure
She headed out of the airport , now confident in who she was and what her purpose was
She was a writer
