Sunday evening and I’m fairly exhausted, despite never having set foot off my land all weekend.
Our legal team – the advocate and the attorney, that is – came around this morning to view the scene of the crime and talk to our witnesses some more. Some very interesting facts have come to light in the past year concerning the murder of our 3 canine companions by an armed reaction officer employed by RSS Security Services back on the last day of 2008. We know we will obtain justice for our friends -it’s just been such a long road. However, I would do it all over again in an instant, and even though, as the saying goes, the wheels of the gods grind exceeding slow, they also grind exceeding fine. We go to court in 3 weeks’ time.
I don’t think it’s just this-and the hilarity of trying to recognise our legal people without their Lawyer Suits on- that has me wakeful and strangely emotional way past my normal bedtime, though.
There are other energies afield which I’m picking up and interacting with pretty damned heavily right now. They seem to be connected to Time and Love and the Tragedy of Women in the Patriarchy, and all in all,my second chakra is taking a pounding. There’s a tender vortex of what feels like wounded energy sitting right behind my stomach. That part of me which connects to the universe through the archetypal colour orange flared up earlier this evening and burst aflame, so it felt.
Is this the normal place of weeping for women in the wisdom phase of their lives? I feel a little like all the tears that female humans have shed down the eons are echoing within my womb right now. How very odd.
Blood-orange tears or no, I have a week to attend to coming up, and a partner who has had to rush into the centre of Joburg to arrest one of his officers for carrying a firearm at work, so I sit up and doodle-type upon my blog.
The wind rose to a brief roaring gale an hour or so ago, flung the (finally) reddening leaves of the Cape Ash all around the yard and rushed off to bother some other locality. But the genii loci of this place are reaching out tendrils of warmth and affection to myself, Scylla and Taranis, lulling us in their golden-broken-through-with-green arms. Telling us without words that Winter has indeed fallen away at last, and the heart of the land is quickening once more.
Be still, and you can hear what the land is saying. Quiet your several egos and She will shout into your mind. Open your connections and She will never, ever, let you go.