Slow Go: Solstice and Super Moon

As if some Big Hand raised up to push me back from the pace of anticipation in these last weeks, I fell into the Solstice weekend like a root vegetable, lodging deep in the earth, sending my feelers around for water, food....looking up once in a while to witness the amazing sun, skies,  Super Moon- and kept a modest run practice going Friday at the park,  Saturday out and back,  and Sunday for the long run.  I found my craving for solitude supported by the knowledge that so many others were gathering for Solstice, or drumming for the full moon.  Even the 'chore list' was shortened when things I thought I needed were not available.  So drawing, journaling and being witness to it all became my MO.

The pace of everything seems so slow,  some kind of physics anomaly, where things closer to the Center appear to slow down, as things at the edges of events appear to speed up!  All over the news are headlines tracking what surface media talks about:  the streaming chaos of paradigms crashing, while all of us strive to keep on our feet, moving forward.  Weather events post new intensities;  floods and fires,  super storms and super moons....record temps in odd places,  the disappearance - and emergence- of lands and ancient civilizations- as we keep adjusting to the unknown.  The Egypt house now has another offer on it,  while I become 'stuck' in the processes of mortgage brokers and bankers....just trying to understand how to 'work it' while tuning in to the Vision of where I 'see' myself, my practice, my gardens, in years to come.

Running has become more 'stepping into' and less planning all the time:  Base miles are now becoming 'get out there and do SOMETHING' at least 3 times before the Sunday long run.   Yoga sprinkled in between keeps me aligned, as the usual aches and pains continue to jam up here and there, while maintaining mobility and flexibility.   As I headed out on Sunday,  I had no plan, packing my hydration belt and music,  and turning up 29th to catch Anglers and the lazy stretch along Ravenswood.  Heat and humidity was buffered by nice breezes brushing up against my skin giving relief from the sun's intensity.  Yes,  the sun IS more intense this year:  it doesn't take much to be outdoors and feel the full hit of this Solar season!  I made my pit-stop, drank all my water,  cruised down 35th with speculations about all the house, work stuff floating out of my head as I focused on my gait, my rhythm.  

Running is all about a rhythm.  Surely something as simple as Left/Right/Left/Right should be automatic, easy.  And yet, it seems I must mentally 'reach' into my body and take my hand off the 'switch' which tries to control myself, so that my body can control itself- and find that rhythm free from my mental construct of what the run should be.   So I detach, I ride the rhythm;  I found myself coming into Stirling with more umph than I expected and kept going until I hit Emerald Hills where I walked a good bit to home.

Finding that slow go,  that soft center seems to be the mission at this time.   I have much more coming that will serve to test and support my goals.  But turning the wheel of the year is a more monumental movement than we imagine.   Before the garden grows, and after we plant the seeds,  there is a fallow time,  a pregnant pause.  The seeds are germinating,  the Earth is making Herself available to us.    All of our resources are being gathered together to help push us up from the ground where we begin.  

Somewhere,  there is a New Place for me.   If I can just stay on my feet long enough to get there.