I can't, I said, I'll fall.
Come to the edge, he said.
I can't I said, I'm afraid.
Come to the edge he said.
And I came to the edge.
And he pushed me.
And I flew."
********************************************
"Out of here..."
I try to think where it started.
Was it 10 years ago, when I heard the siren call of a song called The Cedar Room by a band called Doves, and I had had the distinct impression of a tragic and beautiful fate that I was very personally being drawn in to:
Within weeks of hearing it for the first time, I had met the man I would marry. Doves were signed to his label. He had just released the Cedar Room.
It had started.
*******************************************
"We're out of here..."
Or was it when at 4am he played Sleep The Clock around after a Saturday night in summer 1999, and we laughed, completely in love not knowing what a mess we were about to make and that the record playing spelled out every word of what was to come:
"And you trusted to this
And you trusted to that
When you saw it all coming it was waving a flag
Of the united states of calamity - hey
After all that you've done, boy
You know you're going to pay."
It had started then.
****************************************
"We're out of heartache..."
Or maybe actually it had started years before we'd even met, when he had his first number one record, and it said precisely everything there ever would be to say if I had ever listened to the lyrics:
Or maybe it had started way before even then - when I was 10 years old and found myself mesmerised forever, repeating, over and over, knowing for certain that this was someplace I would one day go:
'Oh You've green eyes, oh you've got blue eyes, oh you've got grey eyes...
And I've never met anyone quite like you before'
Not knowing that one day I would literally marry myself to it.
*******************************************
"Along with Fear..."
I don't know when it started.
But something started.
Something that I had to do. Something that I had to learn.
And now it's over. And now it's really over.
"There goes the fear again..."
And it's time for something else to start.
"Let it go"
That's how this feels.
"There goes the Fear."
********************************************
I don't know when it became time for the newness to start.
Maybe it was in the summer of 2007 when the Heron came regularly outside my front door when I lived by the River Esk:
Maybe it started those mornings I would wake up alone in a brand new world, and meditate and do yoga every morning, alone on the banks of the River Esk:
Not quite believing that the sound of this river is what I went to sleep listening to, and this is what I saw as the dawn came and I opened my eyes, and stepped out of my back door: unbelievably blessed that this was my very own private back garden:
Soon that summer, the Solstice came, and maybe it started that night, when we lit candles around my back garden:
And I gathered with brand new friends, in this beautiful and enchanted place that was my new home, and we sat in my back garden, on the banks of the river that night, and watched the sun set and the stars come out:
I remember Sam helped my light the candles, one by one, but he refused to come to eat with us. I'm no hippie he said. But I couldn't have reached all the candles without him.
Maybe the time for newness had started then.
Maybe it was at the end of that summer, 2 days before I moved out when the horses came. First one white horse.
I noticed the Heron was in the tree. She and the white horse. And me. I had been asleep in the afternoon, and woke to see the Heron and the Horse. Across the other side of the river. I rubbed my eyes and smiled. And then I saw another:
She was still in the tree. Two horses now and my Heron. And me. And the River Esk. Silent, alone and still. I looked at them, coming awake. Taking pictures to believe. I smiled. And slowly the tears were coming. And then I saw the third horse come to my river, and stand below the tree:
I was still. It was so quiet. All I could hear was the sound of my breath catching as I watched the three horses and the Heron, walking from my door to the edge of the river, and becoming aware of the rush of the water as they looked at me, and I at them.
Heart breaking and healing, tears falling and wonder and enchantment swirling around that moment, I looked at the Heron in the tree to take a picture. But now she would not stay. She spread her wings and was gone.
I never saw her again.
And the horses, in the noise and movement of her flight, turned and galloped away until I couldn't see them anymore.
Maybe it was then.
Maybe that was the time when this newness started.
*****************************************
I have the feeling, as I look back on my life, that nothing has ever been accidental and that every single emotionally resonant feeling or experience I have ever had since I was 10 years old, and maybe even before, has held deep and profound significance, the full meaning of which I would unlock and discover only in my later adult experience.
I have the intuition and the belief that I am not alone. That I am protected. Loved. And guided.
I have the impression that everything that has gone before now has always and forever been leading up to exactly this moment in time.
And that it's time.
Something new begins now.
And I am scared.
But although I am scared, I have the belief that I am safe.
It's started.
And I am safe.
*******************************************
Doves - There Goes the Fear
Thank you Great Spirit.
AHO.
