I don’t always know when that point is, the crossover between one state and another, the watershed. It isn’t always marked by a date on the calendar or a celebration, it is like the pause between breaths.
And here we are in a new place. The shift is subtle and slow, momentary thoughts when you find yourself in a familiar place, a sense of tightness, like outgrown clothes. Seemingly chance conversations or encounters send me in a different direction.
It started with the moon. I had never noticed the moon before, she was there, I knew the explanation for her, but I had never seen her, never noticed that luminescence and grace. That was three years ago. From there the path twisted on, so that I noticed her more and more, sought her out, began to learn about her cycles and phases, began to wonder how they might affect my own rhythms.
Then I began to reconnect with the earth’s cycles. The seasons were suddenly thrown into sharp relief and the backdrop of nature stopped being a wallpaper blur on my drive to work and I could see the vibrant, breathing beauty of it. I began to wonder how this pattern might play out in my own life.
And it goes on. And on. We can talk about this later. But this is how it began. Learning to breathe, to feel a rhythm, the slow drum of the planet’s heart beat, underpinning everything. And learning to listen.