I am enjoying the snow.
We didn’t have much of a winter.
What we have right now is a pretend winter. But it is pretty.
I love snow on trees. It always feels magical.
Like being inside of a snow ball (a sparkly snow ball)
Those glass globes that sit on people’s fire place mantels and you pick them up and shake them and it looks like snow falling.
Whoever thought of that?
Just the other day as I was falling asleep
I felt like I was inside of a pine tree, in a dream like state.
Coming up through the roots to get there, I felt nestled and safe.
I was surrounded by an intense green hue that smelled like hope and new beginnings.
It was as if I were a butterfly and this tree were my cocoon.
I was encouraged to let go of all my “Not Enough” beliefs.
They were impurities.
They would be filtered away.
Needing to let myself relax and liquefy,
I was becoming sap.
It was as if this were a transformation I needed in order to become more.
But more what?
Here there was no wrong way to do anything.
Wrong was a distant memory.
Love was the current reality.
And I could just be.
No need, ever again to pretend to be perfect.
No need to live up to other’s expectations.
I didn’t need to be likable.
I didn’t need to be thin.
I could just be me, speaking my truth in my own voice, from within.
I emerged from my dream like state to the soft hooting of owls.
That faint scent of hope and new beginnings surrounded me.
It reminded me of the scent of juniper, after a gentle rain.
It is with me still.
Emily Fuller Williams © 2020