
Ms Hellebore has risen overnight ...
i was delighted to discover a self-seeded foxglove in a part of the property where foxgloves haven't grown in 10 years. She's growing right at the base of a flowering quince. Have noticed the volunteer foxgloves like to cozy-up close to an existing plant. While I was out on this morning's perambulation, I paused to weed here and there - to greet many returning colonies of lemon balm, to plan removal, nurturing, and later transplanting of rose campion seedlings rising from the brick walkway.
Yesterday J cleared up some brush in the evolving sanctuary bed and adjacent frog pond area.
I've been standing on the middle of the bridge at the stream to watch the sun go down and engage with portions of Deb's Equoinox meditation. The excitement rising among class members as the clock moves closer to our first lessons with her at 7 p.m. is a very tangible energy.

We had a worksheet relating to the Equinox presentation. I chose to write in sky blue ink. and something true: I will indeed need that extra note book for additional journaling room. This morning I moved into the additional notebook I'll be embellishing with the half-size copies of the class journal. Wrote about stuff that happened in the yard today - things I noticed/approached/amplified cognitively and energetically because of shifts the Equinox work afforded with effortless ease.
As you can see, the very gorgeous volunteer 'crown' of last year's mid-summer garden still has some things to say. We had a long conversation. I spoke aloud. It embarassed me for years - the way some of my more expressive friends would announce and proclaim and just generally act like humans were the swing vote in it all.
I'm speaking quietly. Sometimes with tender gestures.
It's a big step for me. And I had to, in good balanced blue conscience delete some unplanned opinionated asides concerning why that is.



Also of super Blue interest to me: I was psyched to this really insightful piece in The Guardian yesterday. The headline alone had me clicking on swift reflex.
i deleted what i 'said' about it (by way of relating quite tangentially to recently re-upped marketing of the book on the above left).
the piece itself
speaks more than eloquently.
The book on the right is just me reading ahead with the 7th chakra in mind.
***
I feel a lot of shifts and shedding skin.
I keep having totally out-of-the-blue and previously unimaginable fictional breakthroughs that somehow aren't wreaking havoc with my pre-ordained weekly deliverable schedule. I don't know how it's happening but assume it's open-crown/kinda-sorta cosmically driven
I feel like this had to happen during Blue month or I wouldn't have known how to hold it steady
while the world wakes up and Persephone rises to the surface to evoke all her glorious subjects to bloom everywhere.
sometimes I feel like I'm just this close to losing all control of my original vision but somebody who's writing I love
and greatly respect
once told me that's the only time you're writing worth a damn.
Right on that edge. No exceptions.
Sometimes I know exactly how to hold steady
but it will mean sooooo much work
and additional thinking
during a time of year when all I want to do
is be outside.
I claim I don't know anything
but really I'm saying I obviously
know and choose to imagine I don't.
After the sense of not knowing anything
builds up enough fire&water steam
I stand in the doorway of J's office
and talk myself through various forms of dismay, uncertainty, elation and utterly victorious a-ha moments.
sometimes he's 'there' ...
sometimes he wishes I wasn't.
