Indeed, A Lovely Surprise…

I shuffled my Cat Wisdom Angel Cards, praying my beloved Oscar would communicate a personal message. Our Oscar was a stunning, light-ginger colored, eight year old feline, who passed over three years ago today, due to an unforeseeable illness. How vividly I remember the details and the pain of that emotional day, forever etched within my soul. I still love and miss him dearly, and although I have many adorable animals in my care, he will always remain my special boy.
 

I choose to shuffle the cards nine times, for nine cat lives, and this particular day was no different. I had nearly completed the shuffle, when the 'Surprise' card jumped out of the deck and landed on the floor at my feet. I instinctively knew this was my intended message. The accompanying booklet assured me I would soon receive a pleasant surprise. 'Mmmmm, I wonder?', I thought, feeling intrigued.

The last six months or so, I've been predominantly concentrating on farm and home tasks, as well as supporting loved ones to the best of my ability, who are courageously travelling down challenging roads on their journeys. These beautiful souls are completely inspiring and put life in its rightful perspective time and time again. Add taking care of my furry family members on a daily basis and before I know it, the moon has risen and another day draws to a close.
 

I am more than happy to be in this serving role, as it brings me great joy, yet my soul longs to fulfil passions, presently ignored, and ones which make my heart sing. I am reminded of this often through constant, various subtle, sometimes sledge-hammer style, signs. I don't believe it's to minimise or discard my daily ventures, but to 'let go' of my programmed thinking and to allow myself time to wholeheartedly embrace my core wishes, which at times almost scream at me to take notice.
 

You see, I am one to try and accomplish as much as possible today, as you never know what tomorrow will bring. That's all well and good, however, on a farm there is always something pressing to tend to. It's a never ending saga. This fact was a huge struggle for me to accept when I initially moved from the city, which had been my home for thirty-five years, to our farm in South Gippsland, leaving behind a full-time employment position, along with my independence. However, that's another story.
 

So, the signs have been constant to return to creative writing. Something I dearly love to lose myself in. I acknowledge each prompt, thank Spirit and file it to the back of my mind (my subjective to-do-list), promising to become proactive in the near future, yet of course, the near future is always one step away!

However, to my absolute delight, the surprise Oscar informed me of through the Wisdom Cards, came to fruition this week. Suddenly, via social media, Sound & Story, (a closed, unique group for those who love immersing self in their creativity), invited me to join. 'Wow, perfect!', I thought. I was overcome with emotion and knew Spirit was behind this unexpected offer to finally urge me to start writing again. I laughed out loud, thinking how clever Spirit is. If they can't convince me to consciously nourish myself with soul food, they will nudge me toward a wonderful, supportive and motivating group; one I am accountable to, as they know how reliable I am, (which, by the way, can personally prove to be quite detrimental at times!).

So, here I go….
 

Sound & Story has suggested members take a few moments to sit in nature, and using all senses to describe how it feels. I choose to take a walk on our beautiful farm.
 

The wind is howling today, and it's cold. It silences for a moment, portraying the calm before the storm, then sensing the build up to yet another ferocious peak, it pushes across the damp land, strong and determined, affecting each plant, each branch, each blade of grass and each bird in its way by forcing it off balance - myself included. There are no butterflies or bees to be seen, which usually, happily dance among my rose bushes. The tails of the many, stacked silage wraps are flapping uncontrollably, like a disorganised symphony of plastic matter, and my rescue horse's rug is noticeably annoying him, as it won't sit still like it's supposed to, usually hugging his aged body.
 

Suddenly the sun appears, as if having parted a grey curtain of cloud to curiously peak through for a sneaky look. As she does, a beautiful, golden aura of light blankets my environment, and the warmth I feel I liken to a soothing and warm hug. I welcome her, as the wind has such power over me, encompassing my entire being with uncomfortable restlessness. It has been this way ever since I can remember.

I sit down on damp paddock grass where a group of our beautiful, multi-cultural cattle presently roam, who together create a rainbow of divine, earth colors. They keep a safe distance, yet gaze curiously in my direction. I close my eyes, and as the sun strokes my face one last time, a gust of wind follows with an undeserving slap. I am rudely awakened from my imaginary bubble of comfort, but manage to keep my eyes closed. I fasten the neck of my coat and continue to listen to my surroundings. I am not cold.
 

Birds are intermittently singing, or maybe more so, warning each other to take care. I can hear the water, which we pump up from the Tarwin River, loud and with unstoppable force, as it pours out like a fire hydant into our concrete tank, feeding our livestock through smaller gravity fed troughs. In fact, every so often I feel a splash on my face, which the wind has scooped up and separated from its volume, on its undisturbed journey. The air is so wonderfully fresh and crisp, cooling my airways just enough to sting a little. It smells so different to the air my inner child remembers from my city existence.  

By now my breath is quiet and shallow, almost still. I am deeply relaxed among nature's perfect noise and upheaval of today, and completely in the present moment. My whole being is calm and my body has become light, even difficult to fully sense. I feel no matter what would happen next, it wouldn't phase me. It would just 'be'. I can't help but be filled with overflowing and humbling gratitude.
 

I now sense I am not alone and I realise a few brave steers have come closer, no doubt, in an attempt to satisfy their curiosity. I know if I move suddenly, I will scare them, which is the last thing I wish to do. I slowly open my eyes and to my delight, I am surrounded by ten or so cattle. All big, beautiful, dark eyes staring at me! The seat of my work pants is somewhat wet and I feel it's time to move. I slowly make my way to my feet, which is enough for most of the steers to edge backwards with uncertainty. Once I am standing, sadly they disperse in all directions. However, I need to understand they are not pets.

As I make my way back to the house, the sky darkens and releases a shower of liquid gold to once again cleanse the wind blown earth, but my heart is filled with sunshine and my step is light. It's time to put pen to paper…

So, here I am, seated once again in my beautiful, safe, magical room. Do I possess a flare for the written word? I'm not at all sure, however my soul is singing as I write, and that is all that matters. Assisting my inspiration is Leanda Michelle's lovely, wafting oil aroma, (which my youngest fluff ball obviously loves too, as she's curled up right beside me on the desk), and I'm deliciously savouring every moment. I feel Spirit with me, smiling, celebrating, clapping their hands. Mission accomplished, so to speak. How wonderful life is....
 

Suddenly a familiar feeling of panic engulfs me. So much time has lapsed! There is so much to do and I have only completed a fraction of my intended chores today.

'But you know what?', I remind myself, ' There's always tomorrow…'