Your Soul Knows

In Soul by Melani Marx

Your Soul knows the way.

I keep hearing these words as I move through my day.

I walk the creek in the morning. The late summery dry dust beneath my feet puffing quietly with every step.

The sharp scent of water on parched earth and hot dry stone. Cedar heady and sweet underneath that. Faint.

Soft sunlight coming through the trees warms my face. My hands.

The quiet gurgle of the creek its waters low – waiting for the rains to come.

The sunlight bounces and shimmers off of ripples and rills in the creek bed.

A late butterfly kisses my cheek then flits out in front of me. Swooping and diving. Cheerfully calling me forward along the path.

Your SOUL knows the way.

As I cross one bridge. And then another. My footsteps are hollow. Quiet.

Sitting on a big cool stone by the streams edge, mesmerized by the play of light and shadow. I sit tucked into the shadows. Looking out.

Taking in the nakedness of the stones. Marveling at what is revealed when the flow slows down. Almost disappears. When what is normally submerged is on display.

The hollows. Bowls. Stones worn smooth. Roots twisted and shoved deep into the earth, steady and strong. Old walls and bridge supports washed away in past floods – skeletons on display.

Sandy bottoms.

Golden leafed treasure submerged in calm pools.

Tree trunks – deposited in the last crazy torrential rains during the final letting go of Winter into Spring as snow melt swelled the creek bed almost to flood. Tree trunks and limbs impossibly large, captured and lodged in between boulders. Now simply impediment to flow.

The air is dry. Almost static – even this close to the creek. My mouth is parched like the land. My tongue heavy in my mouth.

I am soaking up the last of Summer’s sun like the tiny lizard scuttling though fallen leaves at my feet. Relishing the bittersweet shifting of the season.

Your Soul KNOWS the way.

As I leave the familiar and known path I walk every day.

Walking farther, more attentively than usual…

Breathing in the scent of dust and hot pavement. I wind along beside the road. Climbing higher. Feeling the stretch of thigh and calf.

There is a jiggledy fizz in my belly. An antsy-ness keeping me moving.

There is something just under the surface wanting to burst forth. Something else that is dying away.

I can feel it. It is not small. It – whatever IT is – is just beyond my fingers reach. My mind’s knowing, It does not have solid shape or form.

I can make it up and say it is about this or it is about that. I can put a spin on and say it is the other boot waiting to drop or something awful that might be on it’s way. But I don’t.

I will not put any parameters on this or name it. If I do I will just be making it up. I will limit whatever is wanting to be born. I will move out ahead of myself and leave this present moment.

Your Soul knows the WAY.

I can feel the fizz and sizzle in my blood… the movement in my organs. The shifting in my bones and sinew.

It feels delicious and exciting and a tiny bit scary.

I can feel a quickening. And it is far more than just in my own body and being. It is in the world stretching out all around me.

I get quieter… drop into the space inside to allow myself to feel into the space that is stretching out all around me. The possibility pregnant in whatever is on its way.

I am giving myself permission to let go of anything that isn’t delicious or nourishing. I am encouraging myself to play more. Paint more. Rest more. Pick up my camera and wander more.

I am listening even more deeply in each moment and doing my best to respond to whatever the inner urging is in that moment.

A scavenger hunt. My own life the treasure unfolding.

I am deliberately opening up space inside of me for whatever this is – to have its way with me. Communicate with me. Whisper its songs into my cells. Kiss my dreams. Live into me.

I am in between. In the liminal. Neither here nor there. In the unknown.

Something is on its way. A person? A place? A new path? A creative vision? I cannot see yet. It is out beyond my sight. My vision. My knowing.

Your Soul knows the way.

The open space. Between. Stirring in my belly. An adventure.

Ah. Divine Unrest. My dear old friend. I know you well.

I breath in the sunlight. The sharp dusty scent. The trees begin to stir. A breeze arrives. I settle more deeply into my belly.

Opening more purposefully to hear the inner urgings carrying me forward. The quiet whispers of my own wise knowing. My Soul’s calm.

I drop deeper and hear the symmetry and union underneath it all. Steadfast and harmonious.

Gratitude blossoms in my heart. I settle into my bones and spine a little more easily.

My soul knows the way.

Yes. It does. This is no small thing.

And so dear one, does yours.

Trust it.