6th June 201
My friend, who is also my councellor and midwife - birthing me on my journey out of my narrow canal of darkness into the light - says,
Close your eyes. Take a breath and what do you see?
I see a small candle, a flickering flame. I see wolves. In the dark. A pack of them. On a hill. Yapping, pacing, teeth-bared. Frightening.
I wait. I see now they are howling at the moon, a terrible throat ripping sound. Female wolves crying for their lost babies. Like me - only my loss is my husband and his lost words, tearing at me. I enter the circle of wolves, nudge close to their soft coats and I howl at the moon too. I see their grieving open wounds from throat to belly, their blood draining to the earth. I feel the blood from my wound, like theirs, seeping, pouring, down and deep into the ground below me, unceasing. Irretrievable.
The male wolves lie low in the night. Tails straight. Keeping watch at the base of the hill. Waiting.
What now? says my midwife. What do you need?
I need some light. A fire in the darkness. Bigger than a candle. A fire to burn on and on into the dawn, into the daylight. To dry me out.
And what do you feel?
I feel my heart fluttering in my chest. Something trapped there. A pigeon. No, a flock of pigeons - hundreds of pigeons taking flight - soaring. And the last one - not a pigeon - but a tiny kingfisher. Speeding away, flashing in sunlight, skimming the surface of the river - turquoise and burnt amber orange - joy riding the sky.
And what does the kingfisher mean to you?
Beauty. Freedom. Lightness of being. The possibility of happiness.
And what is the candle like now?
It’s burning with a strong flame. No flickering.
If you put that candle in your heart, what part of you would it be?
It would be the part that remembers to shine. All of me. Kingfisher bright.
It would be Love.
I have two cards of kingfishers on my desk from my father, who knows about love and how to share it. Who showed me the kingfisher in my heart. Ready to fly now.
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