Coming to Birth
A picture of my mother, pregnant with me (seated, just left of center and staring straight into the camera), with 8 of her 10 sisters and a sister-in-law. (Oh, wait — 7 sisters and one niece.) I don’t know where my older brother is (napping?) but he would be very close in age to the babies sitting nearby.
I had a dream last night in which I was some sort of spy and I went in search of my daughter. When I found her, it seemed that someone had gotten to her, had changed her mind about something essential, and my new task (this is where I woke up) was to find out what had happened to do this. Who had betrayed me?
I know from lots of journal work and reflection, and a recurring set of dreams about daughters, that when I dream about a daughter I am always dreaming about my creative self. Something is about to be born… Often, something wants to be born and I’ve been standing against the door, holding it shut and saying, “No.”
Usually the person who betrays me, is me. What if I got out of my own way? What if I said, “Yes”?
What if you said, “Yes”?
I want to reblog this wonderful post found on FRIDAVILLE. 
The universe has given me notice: Slow down or I will slow you down. On Sunday, while at a retreat near Hood Canal, I slipped on a grassy hill and fell, twisting my ankle. I don’t see the orthopedic specialist until next week, but it is broken at least in one place and maybe more. I’m not supposed to put any weight on it at all, which seems, frankly, impossible, even confined to the house. I’ve been having a major pity-party over the whole drama. I am writing this post, however, to tell you the pity-party is over. This is an opportunity to sit in a chair with my feet up and read and write. What I love most in the world! Why would I not embrace it?