Unveiled Day 1

Listen to day one here...

Maybe you were sitting.
Alone with your breath. 
Letting the quiet find you.
Or maybe you were dancing. 
Tumbling.
Stumbling through the world. 

Maybe there was nothing. 
Maybe there was everything. 
Waiting at your feet. 

Maybe it was a long, long time ago. 
When the world was very young.
Or maybe it was just now. 
That you noticed.
That a piece of wonder. 
Woven from the light and the churnings of your mind. 
Had slipped from your fingertips. 
And landed somewhere. 
Unseen.

Maybe you searched for it. 
Looked under the rug and couch. 
Looked behind your breath.
Your heart.
Although you can feel the shimmer. 
Of what once was. 
What you are seeking has yet to be found. 

Though it is just a piece
You find that you long for it.
Because it is of you. 
And it is of more as well.
It is its own spark. 
It’s own magic. 

The longing.
For what has been lost. 
For what dropped away. 
The longing rises in your chest. 
Your belly. 
Your depths. 

Maybe it is easy. 
Or perhaps it has been. 
To push that longing away.
To pretend. 
That it does not exist. 
To pretend that you are. 
Somehow.
Above the ache. 
That it cannot call to you.
That it cannot sing to you.
Asking. 
For a reclamation. 
Of that which used to be. 
Of that which still is.
Somewhere. 
Far from this moment. 

Maybe what has been lost. 
Is a sense. 
Of your own being. 
A lightness.
A density. 
A desire. 
Perhaps it is remembrance. 
Of how you weave truth into matter. 
Of how you hold the ocean in your blood. 
Of how you know what lives beyond our mind. 
It might even be a place.
Of softness.
Of fire.
Of grace. 
​
Dare. 
To be with the longing. 
Of that which wishes to be reclaimed. 
And remembered. 
Breathe. 
And feel. 
This  ache. 

Let it shine in your body.
For just a moment. 
Just a breath. 
Let yourself revel. 
In the empty space.
Left in its absence. 

There is little comfort in the longing.
Little reason to turn towards the ache. 
Even indulge. 
In its embrace. 
And yet.
If we do not.
Feel its pull. 
We will miss. 
The chance to follow the breadcrumbs. 
We will miss the doors opening. 
The veils thinning.
We will miss. 
The invitation. 
To the Underworld. 

It is the Underworld. 
That we will travel to.
The Underworld. 
That holds.
What has gone missing.
What has been lost. 
It is the Underworld. 
And our journey within.
That will allow.
For the reclamation. 
We crave. 

Breathe.
And let the longing be. 
Breathe.
And feel what is yours.
What is of you.
Breathe.
And as you do. 
The veils begin to part. 
The door begins to open.
Ways are made.
And paths are forged. 
For you.
 For us.
 
Your quest. 
Today.
Is to see.
The door open. 
To feel. 
The veils part.
To know. 
That the way is being made. 

You may see.
Something literal. 
You may feel.
Something metaphorical.
You may create it yourself. 
All are real.
All are valid.
And even. 
If you find that nothing shows itself to you. 
Allow yourself to trust. 
Me.
As I know. 
You are ready.
And tomorrow.
You.
I.
Us all. 
Will cross the threshold.
And enter.
The Underworld. 

If you need.
Want. 
Desire. 
Support.
Or to share. 
Your experience.
Reach out.
I am here.