One year, a leap and a big bite later, and I remember...
Laying on N.'s couch in his Carlsbad sanctuary, crying my eyes out because, finally, my true Self felt affirmed. I found her, my Divine Wild Feminine, in the pages of the Ringing Cedar Series.
Yet, Anastasia was born unto the Siberian Tiaga whereas I was destined to a life seeking balance in the city center where technology and humanity, culture and civilization, intersect.
One year later, and the "how" for sharing the tale of our integrated whole as a means of enduring continues to slowly unveil itself - like a thick, rich molasses it languishes. Recently, I said to soul sister, S. - "I need my Vladimir." At that moment, we were driving on the 8 west, headed back from a day trip up to the local mountains to revel in snow play with her two young beauties when we both noticed a familiar last name on a signpost. It was one of those adopt-a-freeway announcements and the last name of the most recent adoptee was posted. It even had a green shamrock below it. "Did you see that?" I asked her. "Yes," she responded. We just laughed and shrugged our shoulders. Time will reveal all.
We all have our personal legends to tell. A week or so ago, brother M. was sharing about his experiences with a gorgeous woman in our community. "She was the Mary Magdalene to my Jesus," he said. And C. has a long play list that sings of the magic that has danced between he and J. "It's like our wedding reception music has already been written," I imagine him saying.
You are my Vladimir,
you know?
Your recognizing this is a necessary step in the direction of ourstory -
with each moment of waking up, with every layer that we each continue to shed and pull away from our hardened hearts and our veiled eyes, we script a new story.
