So often it’s the little things that show us that we are not walking through this world alone…
This morning, I was reading about the mystery of the two fish – and why they symbolize the Age of Pisces. (You can read about this below *)
It was fascinating reading, diverting my thoughts from the fact that today is the last day I will spend with my daughter before she leaves for college this weekend. Her luggage, almost packed, sits waiting at the center of the living room. She will go, as she did last year, in a flurry of hugs and tears and excitement.
A few days later, her brother, my son, will arrive from his summer in the resort community of East Hampton, where he’s required to work until the last Labor Day vacationers head home.
He will hurry through, tossing belongings into more suitcases – high-top sneakers barely bouncing on the kitchen floor – before, he, too, will be gone, still farther, for a semester in London, England.
I close the book, thinking about my two little fish. A brother and a sister, as different as can be.
I should go home. My daughter and I have scheduled mother-daughter pedicures to celebrate her return to school. We’ve shared a beautiful summer: Writing in cafes, silently, each in our own world yet together – our laptops back-to-back; laughing at terrible movies, being amazed and astonished by better ones; talking and talking at diners, dinner tables and in the car.
As I pack up to go, my heart floods with melancholy. Just then, a small boy (barely two) breaks free of his mother’s hand and makes a beeline – a wobbly, toddler kind of beeline – straight for me.
“Ai!” he greets, grabbing the edge of my table for balance.
“Well, hello,” I say, and I can’t help smiling. He reminds me of my son at that age – the white blonde hair, rosy cheeks, bright eyes – and all of him bursting with life.
He seems to want to give me something. He extends a chubby clenched fist and looks at me. I open my hand to receive it. And as he drops his offering into my palm, my eyes fill with tears.
After all this time – and so many miracles, small ones like this, and bigger ones, I still cannot believe how the angels orchestrate these bright and potent moments filled with meaning.
“Thank you,” I say, looking into his beautiful blue-green eyes.
“Ai,” he smiles back. Then, he reaches for my hand and reclaims his goldfish.
His parents have watched this spectacle, as amazed as I am. (“He’s usually so shy!” Dad says.)
As they walk away – I am speechless, drop dead speechless – and once again, flooded with emotion – but in a good way.
“Thank you,” I whisper (I really do – right there in the middle of the busy lunch hour cafe).
We are not alone. We are loved. We are blessed beyond our ability to understand.
And now, I am going home to collect my daughter and we are going to have our toenails painted pink – and celebrate our remarkable mother-daughter friendship, and her return to the college that she loves.
In case you were curious…
* The symbol of Pisces: Two fish, swimming in opposite directions, joined by the horizon line of earthly experience symbolizes the age when heavenly guidance and deep subconscious sensitivity will be joined. Heaven’s guidance and wisdom will come down to Earth and join awareness – waking us up to a world made of meaning. Pisces (and the Age of Pisces) symbolizes the union of opposites – the end of duality, a sacred marriage of yin and yang, masculine and feminine – at the level of the essential.
Simply put: This is what is meant by the 2012 prediction: The end of time. It does not mean that we will die. It does not mean that we will be destroyed – though, mystics do predict a time of chaos and earth changes as we pass through the 36-year period this shift requires.
When we come through it, we will have shifted away from the concept of time as a way of separating past from present and future. We will have no need of ‘time’ as we know it as we move into a blended consciousness with Spirit.
In 2012, the world will not end – but the world, as we know it will transform. That’s the prediction. In 2020, we come out the other end into an age of peace: The Age of Aquarius.