Shattering the old

Writing this from the magical isle of Avalon, I had forgotten how much this place feels like home, from years of visiting and holding retreats, usually with the family, to the energy which resonates with a deeper part of me - there’s a familiarity, a friendliness, the people, the land.

It’s where I need to be right now as the dust settles from the last new moon on 17 April which has done what people said it would - cracked open the heart to clear out the old, and create space for the new, as that becomes clearer. Change is afoot. Time to do away with the old, step into the unknown and find a new way. I have been feeling it too.

But for this to take place the change has to come from within. And it usually comes from a change in the heart, a deepening in connection. Not to say that the outer world doesn’t encourage the shift, it usually does, and its usually uncomfortable, but it has to be to get our attention and to ask us to go deeper, to heal, and in the healing we find a new way, even if that healing is in finding acceptance that actually everything is OK, or maybe our higher self is conjuring something up with the powers that be, time to step up.

I took a taxi with a very wise man today, 87, a philosopher of sorts, who told me that sometimes we don’t have choice in life, and he’s right, sometime choice is taken away from us and we just have to do what needs to be done, that this is life. It might not be what we wanted, but it is what we have been given, and it is up to us how we receive it and what we make of it, this one precious life with all of its ups and downs.

He was telling me how his wife no longer knows him, how dementia has taken hold, and he cares for her in-between working, such is his love and the honouring of the vows he made, and that true understanding that life is what we make it and we can’t just walk away or give up when life doesn’t give us what we want.

Having the space today, in the white spring, a few hours up the Tor witnessing sunset, helped me to truly appreciate my life. It was a tough beginning to the year and even this morning, walking down Saints Hill, I was suddenly struck by a memory of my friend Marie’s early passing and of Em too, and discovered anther layer of grieving, but this too is OK.

The beach to myself, the tears, the concern at leaving my boys, the fallen blackthorn blossom brightening the path, the craziness of Guernsey airport, the opportunity to write, the conversation with the elderly taxi driver about his life, the joy at being in Glastonbury, the dipping naked in the spring, making a new friend up the Tor, seeing it’s energy in the dusk light, another long walk to the hotel, it’s a mix of all things, a richness that I sometimes overlook.

I am reminded that we are powerful creators, but we don’t always take the time to appreciate the richness of all we have created.

As I was walking back to the hotel this evening, I was reflecting that despite the hard times, I wouldn’t have my life any other way; the sun setting, half moon overhead, waxing now, Beltane approaching, the deep grief still working its way through, cleaning out the quails with Em’s daughter, driving my boys around so they can mountain bike with their friends, the frustration of the traffic on Guernsey, the feeling of crowdedness on a busy island, bedtime Reiki, meaningful messages with my parents, the deep friendship I share with Ewan, a hug with my mum, the love Ewan and I share for our children, my parents too, the moments of despair, the crying, late nights, early mornings, our love of the plants in the garden, the cat who is always under feet but such a part of our family, all of this.

And my students, and clients, who bring such love and joy, little message, updates of what’s happened between sessions, sometimes tears, other times laughter, we grow together, find new ways, highs, lows, its none of it perfect and I wouldn’t want that for anyone. There’s no richness in perfect, no edges, no falling, no mis-takes, no moments of guilt and shame, no messiness, no tears. We need the challenges that break our heart, because only then can we find more of our light, in the cracks, the imperfections, the messiness of life.

I’m reminded of this fabulous quote from Rebecca Campbell which seems spot on for many of you right now:

“In order for the new to arrive, we must first allow the old to shatter. Sometimes this happens on its own. And sometimes it requires that we do the smashing. To tear apart what we’ve built because things have changed, including you. To admit that while it was once aligned, now it no longer is. This smashing requires both courage and faith. Courage to let go and faith that the pieces will come back together again in a way that was more aligned than it was before”.

With love from Avalon

Emma x