Friday, May 16, 2014

Structure follows energy

It's great feeling normal. I've felt normal for three days in a row. I love it!

The only thing that isn't normal about me is what my sister calls the Gaussian blur of light I'm still permeated and enveloped by. One friend, who grew up in Nebraska and is the smartest, most no-bullshit person I may ever have met said, when we met for coffee, "You look glow-y." It's interesting that I can see it in the pictures but not when I look in the mirror.  I can feel it, though. It feels like something that was empty has been filled. It's like one of those dreams where you find a room you didn't know was a part of your house, or one you'd forgotten. It's a happy thing, even if a bit much at the moment. I am not complaining.

The roses are blooming all over Capitol Hill. Oh. I love roses. Earlier in spring, most of the energy is upwards shooting. The early flowers, like the bulb flowers, are all about punching through the cold earth. Their stems are incredible, and the leaves, too. By the time you get to the daffodil or tulip bloom, there isn't a lot of energy for anything except pollinating. The early spring flowers come and go quickly and kind of all at once.

Not so with the roses. I associate this moment in spring with a major shift in the energy. Instead of being mostly about pushing upwards, the energy begins to unfurl, spiral outwards, open up across the landscape. Roses are perfect examples of that outward swirling energy. Their stems are great - sturdy and dangerous - but the energy isn't in the stems, it's in the blooms. All those petals, well - wow! Roses are HEPA level energy filters, they surely are.

Roses generate wonder. Daffs and tulips generate hope, but then their petals fall off and and the next time you see them, someone has tied down their stems. Roses bloom all summer, generating wonder, extending wonder outwards as they spiral open. Roses are so beautiful and so fragrant. Oh man. What is not to love?

Happy waning moon, happy spring, happy Gaussian blur, happy season of the generous, wondrous, unfurling rose. L'chaim.

Sweet smelling but not sticky or cloying, uplifting, like tea but not bitter, and something vanilla-y. I couldn't stop taking in lungfuls of that beautiful smell. Ahhh.


  1. Reya, you're more beautiful than the purty flowers. Something childlike in what I see. Enchanting and almost too bright to look at for long. Which of course makes me want to look more. Make sense?

    Look out for men!

  2. Also, I just saw an osteopath who did that funky body manipulation stuff. First time. I'm more unwound now, must be flowing better. I can walk and move better. And although I should probably not barf my personal business on your blog (sorry, kind of love that word, barf), I kept thinking of you in your train wreck aftermath working with the osteopath after your big initiation (if that's the right word).

    Feeling a little bit like Hamlet who, when asked what he was reading, responded with irony and perhaps not all that much madness at all, "Words, words. words."

    Pretty bird.

  3. YES. So glad you're becoming unwound. Thank goodness.

    And yes, almost too bright. It is softening now, though, becoming more pearly.

  4. I'm glad you're feeling more grounded, Reya. :)