“All things Are too small To hold me I am so vast In the infinite I reach For the uncreated I have touched it It undoes me Wider than wide Everything else Is too narrow You know this well Who also live there.”
Hadewijch of Antwerp (13th century Beguine)
This Chandra image of Sgr A* and the region around it was based on almost two weeks of observing time. A theoretical model based on these deep data has been produced to help explain why this giant black hole seems to consume so little material. Scientists have also used these data to probe supernova remnants and lobes of hot gas extending away from the black hole. The image also contains several mysterious X-ray filaments.
“In my travels I spent time with a great yogi. Once he said to me, ‘Become so still you hear the blood flowing through your veins.’ One night as I sat in quiet, I seemed on the verge of entering a world inside so vast I know it is the source of all of us.”
Mirabai (also known as Meera), Indian Bhakti saint, c. 1498 – 1546
“Beneath the ground, the seeds are slumbering. During these months, seeds are like time bombs, filled with explosive energy that they will only release at the proper moment.
You yourself may be one of these seeds. Perhaps you need a period of rest before you can capitalize on all the power inside you. Or perhaps that dormancy is already ending, and it’s time for you to burst forth. Like any seed, make sure that you get all the light and the nutrients you need. Prepare the ground around you, and take steps to distract any creatures that would feed upon you before you’ve reached your full potential. Then start blossoming.”
“We travel together, passengers on a little spaceship, dependent on its vulnerable reserves of air and soil, all committed, for our safety, to its security and peace. Preserved from annihilation only by the care, the work and the love we give our fragile craft.”
“Dance when you’re broken open. Dance when you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free. Struck, the dancer hears a tambourine inside her, like a wave that crests into foam at the very top, Begins. Maybe you don’t hear that tambourine, or the tree leaves clapping time. Close the ears on your head, that listen mostly to lies and cynical jokes. There are other things to see, and hear. Music. Dance. A brilliant city inside your Soul!”
Let the growing sunlight of each new day touch your soul. May it reach the parts you that have felt unloved, unseen. The dark places between your bones, the cave around your heart, the space between each breath. Let it stir the dreams in you, the seeds of medicine sown into your making, activating their shape shifting ways. All of you is worthy of this light; your flesh, your skin, your womb, your heart. Let it’s magic call you home, let your wildness reply with its own slow and gentle awakening.