Indian Summer

In English they call it Indian summer. In Italian is called Summer of San Martin. For me it is Autumn, a gorgeous Autunm with its magnificent golden colors under a clear blue sky. A reminder that death is a continuation of life in another form.

I spent two incredible weeks bathing in the glorious beauty of this season that calls for silence, peace, healing and transformation.
Nothing really dies. And that is true even for the leaves that before they fall in their last flight back to earth, are singing their song of freedom. The leaf has no sadness when it lets go of the mother tree, its dance to the ground is one of the most exquisite, delicate, vulnerable and most of all full of true surrender.

Let me stay here to see this miracle repeating itself and yet each time is a new dance.
Like a Zen monk I am asking nothing more then just be here and rejoice of the suchness of this dance.
Sweet is the pain when the day comes to an end, when the shadows of Autumn makes the contrast even more vivid, the light even more clear.

Silently whirling the last goodbye to a faraway friend who never will return to meet my eyes and yet is always here in the secret sound of each heartbeat.

I wish to always live my life with that faith and surrender, just like a falling leaf happy to dance its own dance. Silent to hear my own true voice, happy to trust anything that comes my way. Always remembering to smile at the precious gift to be here and now in this body on this earth, for as long as God wants me to stay.
And with a longing that never dies.

Let me dance my longing.

The longing

I would like to end with few words about "the longing".

The female counter part and predecessor of the mystic poet Rumi (1207-1273) is today to me Hildegard von Bingen. ( 1098-1179)
Rumi spoke of the longing amazingly and Hildegard does it hundred years before him in her unique style of the powerful renaissance woman of early middle age. A woman who was the inspiration and foundation of German ( Rhine land) Christian mysticism. A mystic movement of creation- centered spirituality.

From Hildegard von Bingen:

Like billowing clouds,
like the incessant gurgle of the brook,
the longing of the soul can never be stilled.

It is this longing with which
holy persons seek
their work from God.

Version translated by Gabriele Uhlein

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