The giant sycamore tree that lovingly guards our home has midwifed the transformation of dozens of cicadas in recent days and weeks. Every summer, they bore their way upward from their earthly beds, awakened by the warmth and beckoned by the light. Instinctively, they climb up the tree trunk toward eventual rest and release of the container that no longer serves them. Transformation complete, they fly away and sing their summer song.
I've been talking with a lot of soul sisters lately who are on a similar journey of transformation these days. They are waking up and digging through the darkness. They are climbing toward their rebirth. Inch by ever-loving inch.
I honor and celebrate all that you have been and all that you are becoming.