Love Letter to the River Path by my House

Excited to witness flood season, we took to my most beloved river side path. Regardless of the waterline, each time I’m here, I must stand in reverence, and let river wisdom cleanse me of whatever uncertainty I'm in. This time, the raging river comforted me, reminded me that I too, am a body of water that surges, floods, peaks and attenuates, and that this torrent of energy inside me is cyclical. 

We crest, and then rest; this is nature’s way.

There’s also something here for me about abundance. Becoming a mortgage holder has encouraged a reframing of my relationship with money. Seeing a pod of pelicans scoop their big ol’ beaks into an ever increasing body of water just a hundred or so feet from me days after I made it a goal to see pelicans on the river makes me feel like manifesting is an accessible life creating strategy that I am HERE FOR and skilled in. I want more of this; the speaking experience into existence, the speaking magic into life. May prosperous overflow be. 

That I live so close to the path in a river side park I adore feels like a loving hug from my spirit team. Oftentimes, I need verdant reminders to just be as I am. Abounding gratitude floods at the reception of this just a few hundred steps from my front door. To be pulled out of my head straight into wildness a hop, skip and jump from where I slumber is 1) a fact of life my inner child is so curiously perplexed about being blessed with and 2) essential to my wellbeing. I feel a ferocious tide swelling inside me that I don’t yet understand nor can make tangible steps from. If I stay reverent, the river path will teach me what I need to know, of this I am certain. 

Sometimes when I do yoga, when the flow is working its magic on me, I third eye witness vines and florals bloom from my feet into the earth below. When this happens, I know groundedness is certain. When I meander down the river path by my house, I feel the same deep connection with the earth below my feet. This morning I recognized that this metaphorical blooming surges when re-grounding follows a period of falter. Instead of cursing our moments of imperfection, I think we should bless them. Missteps and imbalances allow our wild beauty to take hold. 

As I wander into the depths of this path I love, I realize I am gazing in awe at everything yellow, I consider this fascination to be how GUS (GodUniverseSource) tells me to focus on my solar plexus. I try to think of yellow food to eat but then a catbird meows a birdsong and I am swept into astonishment at yet another thing named intentionally. I don’t know why, but I feel so much exasperated whimsy when I realize that a name refers to the literal nature of the thing. I’m usually so head in the clouds unaware of how something earned a name, just like those newly hatched caterpillars in silk must be unaware of the journey they’re about to embark on.

First they crawl, then they fly. This is nature's way.

Been goo in a chrysalis many a time, 

E