When lighting struck it came quite literally as a bolt from the blue. It was a morning of blue sky and one singular cloud. The fire was lit in the front room and I sat by the window on the phone to a friend. We spoke of Gretel’s book, a woman’s story of being struck by lighting. A Match to the Heart she called it. I like the book, the title appropriate for ………
Then, it happened. There was no thunder. No warning. Just the explosion as a bolt of lightning struck the house. The phone flew. The electrics went. The air ionized instantly.
It has been a year of lighting bolts, although not ones quite so literal or stunning as what struck that morning. Over the course of the year, so many strikes, each one an ignition, each one a match to the heart. For better for worse each one sudden, unexpected. It seems this year, I was the woman whom lightning followed.
From the beginning with saying no more to one known too long. To a surgery that went from difficult to just wrong. To the loss of two cats, long travelling companions of heart and soul. To suddenly finding a light of pure gold where and when least expected. To the night that light arrived yet again at my door not meaning to leave. And then with that light co-creating a language seldom spoken. To the offer of a field I can with eyes closed still traverse. To travels through karma and visions of futures waiting to unfold. To a bridge that can not be burnt, only crossed. To a loved one’s fear, the one who fled without leaving. To flight not forewarned making misfortunes befall but leading however to crumbling walls. To a heart that restarts each time like a bolt from the blue. The clearing of old, the welcoming of new. With each strike another match to the heart.
Tonight I light candles in the window to the front. The window by which lighting arrived. I do not light candles to ward off other strikes, nor to cast upon the night prayers, wishes or dreams. Tonight I light candles and begin to say goodbye to the year of 2013.