free

"What do you fear lady?" he asked.
"A cage", she said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire."

J.R.R. Tolkein, The Return of the King

I though it was an ill wind that blew in with an icy blast at the end of last year and rearranged all the carefully placed pieces of my life. Here now, under a clear blue January sky, I think it may have been a holy one.

I dared to name last year Hope and after twelve long, hard months that left me soul weary and heart sore, I was ready to concede how foolhardy I had been.

I though I could circumnavigate grief - deftly leap over the pitfalls and side step the potholes.  There is no way past grief except straight through it.  I know that now.

I thought I could keep doing what I was doing, keep spinning all those plates and never let one fall.  The crash, when it came, brought relief more than anything.  I realised I didn't much care for some of those plates anyway.

The one plate that didn't get broken is the one thing that perfectly fits my heart.  There is time and space enough now to continue and pursue the counselling course I began in the Autumn but have struggled to keep up with.

This new year names itself.  Perched atop a broken cage, singing its name in the half-light, it stretches out its wings and flies - free