My sister. My harbor. Yesterday she served me in such an amazing and holy way just by holding the space for me as my soul journeyed back to Robyn’s birth. I did not consciously plan to go back, but from not resisting but allowing a wave of hurt to break all over me I was swept into a sea of deep, deep sadness. Still, I did not resist; I dived even deeper into the dark and stormy waters of my fears. I surrendered, I redirected pass my logical thinking. I was afraid and alone, but ready. I felt brave and strong enough to die. I want to know what does it mean to die and how does it feel? It became even darker as I closed my eyes a little more…
The smell of hospital, the lightning in the labor room, the reassurance in Harold’s voice, the sad and sometimes confusing expression (I think he perceived me as unusual) on the doctors face, the nurse’s love and respect… And then the privilege and honor of nurturing her tiny body close to my heart for a moment in time. Not because she needed my love but because I needed her perfect love. While I held her body on my chest, she carried me in spirit, and all of a sudden I found myself safely on the shore, worn out but alive. Wow. I didn’t die, but I knew everything had changed forever. All was well with my soul as I ‘gazed at the world through a thousand eyes.’ ~ Women Who Run With The Wolves
