I Remember …

Carol A. Hand

I remember other storms approaching – the wind silent but the air filled with the electricity of threat and possibility. I survived. But have I worn the grooves of hope and love deeply enough into my spirit to weather the storms that I know are coming? As I sat on my doorstep this morning watching the first of the snowflakes begin to fall in the darkened landscape, I wondered what the winter of these times will bring. I can feel the beat of my heart quicken with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

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Photo Credit: Duluth – Morning – November 10, 2014

My thoughts are transported back to an earlier time, the first warning of storms to come. I was standing in the Connecticut cottage where I lived with my infant daughter looking out of the picture window toward the trees and down at the river that flowed past the front of the cabin. Then, as today, the air was filled with the electricity of an approaching storm. Yet in the past, I awoke from a dream remembering some of the images and insights of a guide that sometimes speaks to me through dreams. “A storm is coming,” the guide said.

“Times ahead will be hard. The earth has shifted on its axis and the polarities of the earth’s gravitational fields are changing. People will not know they are being affected by these shifts, but polarities will be amplified. Those on a path of light will glow brighter while those on a path of darkness will grow stronger in their quest for control and destruction. You have a choice. You may leave now. You don’t have to stay to face the storm.”

How could I leave an infant to face the coming storms without a mother who loved her? I certainly wasn’t a perfect mother, but I loved my daughter enough to choose to seek the light again and again. I would fail again and again, but decades later, I know I did the best I could. I’m not a perfect grandmother either, and I’m unsure what I can do to help my daughter and grandchildren prepare for the coming storms, but I trust that whatever comes, love for others and for this wondrous and beautiful world and universe are what will matter most in the years ahead.

Copyright Notice: © Carol A. Hand and carolahand, 2013-2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carol A. Hand and carolahand with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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About Carol A. Hand

What matters are not the titles I’ve held or university degrees I earned or the size of a house or bank account. It’s really what I’ve learned from ordinary people like me whom I’ve met along the way. They taught me to live with gratitude and give thanks for each new day.
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19 Responses to I Remember …

  1. smilecalm says:

    beautiful inquiry, carol!
    despite a hard rains gonna fall
    the moment gifts
    reasons to believe 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Beautiful! Love has always and will always matter.

    Like

  3. landwanderingland says:

    Perhaps the storm won’t be as destructive as you, or I for that matter, may fear. Regardless, as always, the storm will pass. One can only hope its remnants won’t linger long after its gone.

    Like

  4. mandy says:

    This was so beautiful, Carol. ♥

    Like

  5. Carrie Cannady says:

    Beautiful. There is great power in the light of our vulnerability, yes? I love the message from your guide. Thank you for this timely, honest and poignant message. 🙂

    Like

  6. I love your words illustrate so well that sense of standing at the crossroads of life – which way do we go. As you say, we won’t always make the right choices, we’ll fall short some of the time but that love keeps us going – on and on into all the tomorrows we face.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Silvia TIC says:

    Carol,
    I feel the same, at times scared, at times excited…but nobody knows what the coming storms are bringing us (or our children): we just know there are storms coming, many of them…
    Humankind has gone through quests before, and so has the Earth…this time it seems as if the accumulated scope and range of the storms is certainly bigger; they are coming from different angles: financial, social, resource-wise, environmental…
    Sometimes I feel I’m battling alone: nobody at home believes what I know, nobody supports my practices…however, I insist. As a mother, the only thing I can leave to my children is showing them how to be resilient and grateful. Resilience to survive, even thrive or at least fight; and gratitude for all what is still here.
    I had a similar dream decades ago; I used to be “visited” by these dreams, at once scary and beautiful. The dream turned out to be partially true, I miss those dreams and I wonder why they have stopped: probably now they know my eyes are fully open to see for myself.
    Hugs

    Liked by 1 person

    • carolahand says:

      Sylvia, I always appreciate your thoughtful comments. I agree with you observation that “the accumulated scope and range of the storms is certainly bigger; they are coming from different angles: financial, social, resource-wise, environmental…”

      I think dreams change over time – they weave themselves into our waking hours and become part of what guides us as we simply go about living our lives. Hugs to you, too, my sister in spirit.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Robbie says:

    Wise comments from your readers. I wish sometimes we had do-overs, but we don’t. Parenting is like that. I made a lot of mistakes..too many to mention. It is funny but they really don’t see all our mistakes…I love having grandchildren it is different. I am less afraid and more hopeful as a grandmother…..You are such an introspective soul:-) I admire that:-)

    Like

  9. EmaBeesArt says:

    LOVE – The imagery you have here is so powerful: “But have I worn the grooves of hope and love deeply enough into my spirit to weather the storms that I know are coming?”

    Thank you for sharing!

    Like

  10. Pingback: Finding the Light on Foggy Days | Voices from the Margins

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