“Pull up a chair and let us incubate in this vast darkness.”
It is no wonder these words came to me in a dream last week. I am indeed incubating. It is as if my bones and my veins need stillness and quiet. Like a bare tree plunging its roots downward, searching for deeper nourishment, finding in the darkness what it truly needs. The smallest tasks feel like such a large effort right now.
We are in the darkest time of the year. My body knows that, and it longs to rest. But soon, the sun will be reborn, and I am hoping with that emergence, I too, will be ready to shed my cloak of invisibility, emerge from my womb-like cave, and shine my light with the sun.