Toyon berries. So red, so beautiful. Seriously, after these first frosts the berries begin to ferment and the Robins gorge upon them. Then, loopy Robin Redbreast sings and flaps and carrys-on like any other Being who has been into fermented brew.
This morning I straggled out of bed. It was as though my spirit just wasn't with me. My Happy Go Lucky had got up and left without me. Too much worry, too much old-crappy thoughts, too little of the "good stuff" had me frumpy; no amount of coffee could dislodge the ragged feelings.
I dressed, put on layers of sweaters and vests and jacket and crampy shoes and went out for my neighbor-walk, grumbling "who would walk on a cold morning like this, and who would walk with her???" Of course, I avoided the dogs, as they read minds and would volunteer in a heartbeat, without all the negative discourse.
As I walked into my neighbor's driveway, her two pinto babies born this spring were racing each other back and forth in their pasture. The colt bunched together and put serious speed into his frolicking. The filly bucked and kicked and caught up with him. Joni and I fed the horses before we started our tromping through the vineyards. Now, how could anyone stay frazzled in the face of this pure joy?
"Under the Holy Spirit's guidance, we come together to share joy. Under the ego's direction, we come together to share desperation. Negativity, however, cannot really be shared because it is an illusion." Marianne Williamson, "A Return to Love"
What a concept: negativity cannot be shared because it is an illusion. Holding this thought gently, imagine all past inequities, hurts, betrayals, disappointments... melting into the nothingness from which they came. Poof. Gone. Holding this thought gently I allow forgiveness to melt away that which does not serve me. Holding this thought gently, I allow myself to fill up with Toyon berry red and the Robin song to fill my ears.
All Is Well.
And the rain is coming.