Where to begin?
I post this now, instead of tomorrow night.
Tomorrow night is a gathering of the women’s circle.
I am so looking forward to being back there. Being with my women.
Revealing. Releasing. Surrendering. Opening. Learning.
I am ready for the lessons. The journeying.
I am ready to walk with my buffalo spirits.
I see them everytime I close my eyes.
They are there. Their gentleness and massive bodies calm me.
I walk beside them. I run beside them.
They nuzzle my side and push me forward.
Walk your walk, Leonie. Walk your talk. Now is the time.
The buffalo power and sureness of step comforts me, encourages me.
I ask for their lessons. I will share my gifts with them.
I know my shift. I have felt introverted and seeking in the deepness of the West.
The West has given me lessons and gifts I needed. It granted me the serenity of darkness for my own internal search. Held by mother Bear, I was soothed and wonderously lost and found again. The finding is a gradual unpeel, a stripdance of the spirit, unravelling threads which are tangled and long to be free.
The sun shines towards me from the north now, and I am gathering my belongings from my cave. There are fields and plains to walk across in the destiny of my own truth.
I began reading a book last night. Native Wisdom by Ed McGaa, a Native American. A book just as I need it, long for it, dream of it.
I find my balance today. Long hours in my homeland of the art table. Creating, drawing, freeing the coloured energies from my body. It has been months since I painted last. You begin to worry that you have lost it, but you haven’t. It’s there for the uncovering and delighting in, always.
I speak my truth. I am conscious of my thoughts.
I am doing the very best I can.
I want henna painted on the palms of my hands in the shape of a sun.
I want the energy to pour from them.
I want I want I want.
I ask and I ask.
I read a part of a book in a store the other day. Tomorrow I will find the book and claim it as my own.
A 17 year old girl said:
We girls, we stand in front of the mirrors for hours on end.
We are wondering what others think of us, how they see us.
But we aren’t asking what we want for ourselves.
I’m asking now.