Silence Between Breathes

This is the quiet time. The dark time. The empty time of waiting that must come before I can be refilled. My soul screams for respite and solitude while my mind shudders at the thought of isolation in this desolate season. The Outside World demands that I work full throttle to finish this semester, but my being rebels. This is the season of Isa, rune of stillness. Rune of silence. Rune of the cold center where we must go to rest. I am tantalized by the promise of it's embrace. I need to be emptied so that I can be replenished with something far more nourishing. I need to stop long enough to be remade in my own image.

There are several passages from Seasons of the Witch which call to me at this moment. All of them are too long to type out here, but I will type one of them out anyway.

In the center of every forest is a well of sweet water. By the time you reach it, you will be desperate with thirst. You will have been walking through the day and into the night, and the woods will have been growing darker around you, and you will have seen no water at all.

And then, a clearing lit by silver light.

You do not see her standing in the shadows. You cup your shaking hands and dip into the well. But a bony hand grasps yours.

Shaken with surprise, you look up.

She is veiled. From beneath the veil she speaks. Her voice is full of the mystery of endings. She asks what you want.

Water, you begin to say.

Then your heart is flooded with memory and need. You remember losses and pain, driven days when you burned with yearning, bleak hopelessness of abandoned dreams. Your parched throat will not let you speak. And there is not time enough to answer, for what you desire has become immeasurably and inexpressibly vast.

She is waiting.

You stand worldless before her.

She opens her arms to you, and suddenly she is all that you desire: arms to hold you, a breast to weep upon, a murmuring voice to sing in your ear, a softness that is more comforting than you have ever known.

She is sweet water in the dark forest. She is abandoned reams restored. She is all the world at once,, and all the time you need.

After reading that the other day, I was moved to write the following:

Isa is the answer that comes when you stop asking the question. Only when you have ceased your restless searching can she come to you, in the stillness of waiting without expectation. Only when you can sit with What Is can What Will Be reveal itself to you, in all of her splendor, in all of her glory.

Not as powerful as the inspiration, but that is what I pray for with every breath right now. The strength to sit without expectation, knowing that the truth and beauty will be revealed.

Now is the time of the silence between breathes. May I learn to sit here patiently.