I'm not surprised that when I grasped blind into the small, burgundy bag my fingers rested on Dagaz, 'breakthrough.' It is the rune of new beginnings and radical discontinuity. It signifies contact with the supreme mystery.
Supreme mystery. Well, today I buy a bigger truck in order to pull the little woman-wagon, my 19-foot Pioneer trailer. My Toyota Tacoma has to go; it's not quite large enough to pull my new life down the road. I've had many calls from prospective buyers. I just might buy and sell on the same day. This wheel'in and deal'in doesn't feel like mystery to me. Except my 'sister' Babette reminds me that she's amazed at my ability to call in what I need just when I need it. I say it's about working the seasonal energy that's there for the asking. Key word: ask. Beseech. And then surrender to what comes.
The long winter's void and daily practice of letting the old die culminated in the end of my 15-year old marriage. No matter how right and timely, it is wrenching. Some nights I awaken at 3:00 a.m. paralyzed with fear. Bag lady fears. Growing old alone fears. The chatter of, 'well you've gone and done it now!' - fears. I sometimes think I must work harder to banish fear. Spring's resurrection reminds me that all life forms that push forth onto the earth are tenuous.
The sun breaks the horizon as I ponder a cosmos of possibility. I have no answers but take heart that the bare bone winter is past. The flesh warms. My eye can't help but wink.