A little cuckoo

I've been feeling a little crazy over the past few days and today on The Path, halfway down the hill, I plonk myself down on the verge and consciously sit with it. I notice anxiety around stopping. A general fear that I don't have enough time to stop and that if I do I won't get "it all" done. A sure sign that I really need to stop! 

Just stopping right where I am feels really good - butt perched in the grass (even with a white skirt on) and bare feet on the dusty path. Taking a moment to bask in the warmth of the sun. I can breathe. I am aware of the sounds around me. In the distance I hear what sounds like cuckoo, cuckoo. Yep, that just about sums it up! I giggle to myself. 

First I hear one bird high up on the hill, then I hear another down below. It's like nature in stereo, only they are noticeably out of sync. As the second bird tries to verbally catch up with the first (or so it seems) I am aware of a familiar ache in my heart, just willing it to find resonance with the other. To come together and sing as one. They're getting closer. Its almost there. Surely this time…but no, it doesn't happen and I feel such a sense of grief that they never quite meet. 

Of course, this isn't really about the birds at all. The outer world is simply a reflection of our inner world. It's about me...and contact, and longing, and separation, and grief. 

A good time to stop and take care of myself after all :-)))

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