The house is quiet, the sun streaming through the windows. I can hear the low hum of traffic outside, a few birds singing in my lilac tree, there is a cat purring nearby.
I’ve been working all morning, pushing through my to-do list. Then I realised it had been three weeks since I had written in this space. There was a time I came here every day, when I felt the need to write frequently when I felt like I should be here more often.
We spent the weekend before last at Conscious Tribal Gathering. A wonderful small festival, not far from where we live. Sat in the beautiful Welsh countryside, along the river, in fields with powerful ley lines running through them. The sun shone, we were surrounded by friends, we danced the nights away, swam in the river and walked barefoot for days.
I felt a shift in myself, my energy changed, coming home to real-life wasn’t overly welcomed. Often, after five days in a tent, I am grateful to be home again. This time, however, home felt disconnected.
I feel newly awakened, as though I’ve been through a dormant period and I’m slowly re-emerging. This past ten days since we came home, I’ve been sick – purging the old energy, and feeling the need to turn inwards. To contemplate where I am and where I want to be. What is important to be, and what I need to let go of.
I’ve been so tired, wanting to sleep, to rest. Needing to be more insular, yet seeking the wisdom of my sistars too.
I don’t have words right now, nor do I feel called to write endless reams about anything. Yet inside, there are plans being made, dreams hoping to become reality, hard-work being done behind the scenes. I can feel so much changing, so much possibility bubbling to the surface, I’m embracing change in a way I never have before.
This is the quiet before the storm. The time of planning and dreaming and believing. Of building energy ready to make changes and build a new world.