Archive for September, 2015

Fighting the demons

Thursday, September 10th, 2015

And they held her there, chained to her heart. But this time she fought them. Deep in her body it built and there wass a deep growl that escaped from her lips. She threw them off of her heart and they fought but she wasn’t afraid this time. They no longer had a hold on her. And the magic shot out of her body – long waves of it and it reached out to the world. This is mine, you can not take it, for I am powerful.

But deep inside, the love still lived for him and she was afraid of that love, afraid that she would let it trap her again. She did not know how to love and be powerful. Somehow to love meant to stand in the mud, hold her breath and not move. It meant to be silent and forget about the rest of the world. How could it be that love wasn’t connected?

To join the pulsing of the world was true connection but this love was not that. So her wings still sagged at that thought and it made her sad. But she decided to lift her feet out of the mud. They’re we’re stiff with disuse but also eager to join the dance. To give up on control and dance with the fireflies at night, to sing the songs of healing and love and to start to heal herself again. To learn that all healing starts within.

The magic returns.

Wednesday, September 9th, 2015

And sometimes she wanted to scream out in pain and anger. Scream so loud that the birds at the top of the mountains could hear it. Let the world feel my pain.

But instead she held it deep inside where it lay dormant for many years but like all things there reaches a time when they no longer fit where they are put. And things started to shake and rumble and who knew what destruction would happen when they finally came out. The fear built, the fear of that anger for those who had trapped her and stolen her magic while she was busy being in love.

But magic is powerful and it has a way of going back to the source, so while she stood there in the mud, the magic was returning. Not gently, not with love, but with a force to shake the ground to loosen the mud that held her there. Gentle would no longer do it. Instead the magic came back through her heart, wrenching it open and saying, “look, look out into the world. You may not stay here any longer. You are needed. You must be powerful and strong again.”

And so it was

Tuesday, September 8th, 2015

She looked down and saw that while she hadn’t been watching she had sunk into the mud up to her knees and was stuck. Her little wings fluttered but they weren’t strong enough for lift off. The thin membranes had grown weak with disuse and the brilliant orange color had faded to a dull yellow. She looked up to the sky and the bright light of the sun shown down on her but somehow it didn’t quite reach her.

So she stayed there in the mud, not sure what to do. It wasn’t completely unpleasant but she was often sad especially when she thought of the days when she would flutter and dance with the other fairies.

And when night feel she would lay her head on her hands and sleep. Often times dreams would come, frantic dreams, gathering and running and never able to be able to escape and she would wake up drenched in sweat. But she still didn’t move from the place she was at. What if she stepped out of the mud and found she couldn’t stand on her own two feet anymore. What if without her strong wings, the wind blew her over. If she died where she stood at least she would be home. Home was important. If you were home, you were safe from the world.

So she stayed where she was at and slowly became rigid and weak and the joy drained from her down into the mud and she became grey in color and although there were those who tried to reach her, she no longer saw them.