The Rio Grande
I departed Taos; left behind adobe walls framed with apricot blossoms, splintered window frames of faded turquoise, horse pastures of peace in the middle of town. I drove across the Rio Grande Gorge bridge steeped in memory of my pilgrimage into the Sangre de Cristo's and my homecoming with Grandmother Tree. Her advice: don't rush. Don't push the river. I'd been doing just that. Squeezing my brain cells for answers to the discontent that roiled around inside. I didn't need to worry. Metaphor gushed from spring thaw in the southern Rockies. Snow melt, overflowing ditches, impromptu streams of riled waters. The forces of nature combined and surrounded me as I traveled west towards Mancos and frozen energies let loose.
One by one I crossed their cold wetness. I was Mancos-bound on May 10. Mercury, ruler of communications and travel, came out of retrograde the next day; added cosmic heat to the energies of thaw. Five days later I gave 3 weeks notice on my job and made plans for a pilgrimage to British Colombia and Alaska. Christina unleashed.
I am unbearably excited; I am paralyzed, at times, with fear when I think of money. Or lack of. But the constant faith in this decision holds firm. Something unexplainable is at the helm. It's called the soul and I need to stay out of her way.
Huge cosmic shifts are set to occur this summer, especially from June 26-August 21st, sparking volatility in the earth, weather, personal relationships, political and economic realms. "Be careful out there," writes my sister-friend Carole as I load the trailer and prepare to depart for her home in Kaslo, BC. Tensions begin to heat up June 5th but I find it fascinating that the day of my departure, new moon on June 12th, is the only easy time predicted for this time period. June 12-18th is relegated as a good travel window.
The precious Mancos River.
Three weeks and counting. I need to make an appointment with the vet for Teak's certificate of good health for the Canadian border crossing. The list grows.