We knew the storm was coming. Even our animals could sense it, they were unusually restless many hours before the winds arrived. I was too. It was as if there was something else in the air besides the powerful wind. An invitation. An opportunity to open up, to let go, to trust in the unknown.
When daylight finally arrived, we took a walk around our property to see that all was well. We came upon this ancient aspen, one of the sacred trees on the riverbank. A long time ago, another storm had split it almost in half. But it is still thriving. This time, a huge branch on the other side had come crashing down.
I know this magnificent, ancient giant will survive this too. When spring arrives, the buds on the branches will once again open up and create a wonderful green canopy above our Elf Path. The fallen branches themselves form a new portal. One that will remind us of the powerful transition we have been going through this winter.
We are breaking open. Allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. Exposing our core. The process itself can be relentless and challenging. But what is coming to light when all the defenses come crashing down, is beautiful to behold.
There may be many more storms ahead. We may be battered and bruised. But still, we rise.