interruptions, wild turkeys, unlocked gates, magic matches, rekindled love and the wide open field of anything is possible

 "Show me magic today," I say as I step outside. I say it out loud.It reminds me that this is a relationship.Me and the world.Me and something wider and wiser than me, which listens.As the door swings shut, a black butterfly flutters up to my face, circling me playfully."Good start," I say.I follow the thread of my own curiosity.I let my gaze be drawn by the invitation I sense in the world. I notice what is here.A honeybee drops onto a red clover blossom.I notice many acorns, cracked open.I notice the cumulative NOISE of three lawn mowers and farm tractors and construction crews banging.I feel interrupted - edgy. Cut off from the buzzing and birdsong and breeze through the leaves.Yet magic is a trickster. Magic, I have learned, is in everything - even interruption. As I look for the magic in interruption - I see that, like all shadow, interruption is a training program.It calls me to hold my awareness on the task at hand - which right now, is featherwalking.I notice my own body - my legs, getting ready to run.My breath, deepening.I feel into the red cave of my own belly -- a mysterious and marvelous realm which I have only this week learned to open - and enter.

A red dragonfly zips by. I follow.It leads me to a red plastic circle, the top of a milk jug, lying in tall grass.Which leads me through an unlocked gate.Which leads me to a clutch of wild turkeys which have settled into the curve of a hill on my neighbor's lawn.Sometimes, the soul speaks through dreams.Sometimes, the soul speaks through the world.Sometimes, it speaks through other people.

I've been working with this Young Sorceress. She sent me a stack of magic matches.We light them together every few days as we see what wants to emerge.I thought it would be fun.It's been .... how can I say this?A delightful shattering.You know that way that shattering can delight us- when we've been expecting to/waiting to fall apart,the way that collapsing in on ourselves can be a kind of orgasm.Today's #FeatherWalk reminds me of that -of the delight that I find in detecting and dissolving debris- and of shredding the stories I no longer need.I walk.Here is the red dragonfly again, flying up to greet me.A reminder that she was here yesterday. A reminder that she is here, again, today.