Monday, February 2, 2009

In the belly

She found herself awake early on the morning of February 2. It was the fourth consecutive night her beauty rest was deprived by the curious case of the stomach flu. Oddly, it was also the celtic celebration Imbolc, coming from Old Irish i mblog meaning 'in the belly', which specifically honored Brigit, the goddess of fire, poetry, healing and childbirth.

Regardless of the synchronicities, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the gut reaction -- a final clearing of sorts -- of the ignorance of those key visceral signals for all those years prior.

She woke up the day before at a more normal hour for a Sunday with only one clear thought in her head: 'I'm tired of boys getting in my way. And I'm really tired of boys who don't understand their inner work...'

She began her day early, despite interrupted sleep. She was alone, and living it. Most importantly, loving the space it gave her.

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