The sense of summer is here still, on the mountains and the waters of the mystical lands around me. Recent storms and welcome rains have refreshed the colours and the scents of nature, delighting the bats and the birds as insects cloud the skies: house martins and swallows make the most of the late warmth as they feed their second or even third broods, but the sense of uncertainty is in the air as hazardous journeys come closer and the smell of autumn is not far away. Everything is changing.
The world of birds and bees is used to the cycle of seasons and the joys and dangers of life. Their identity is clear: for them there is no ambiguity. I am thankful they live every moment in the moment, focusing on survival and procreation and being part, naturally and happily, of the rhythm of spirit. They struggle too, as all nature struggles, but they know all will be well, one day. They know their place in the hierarchy of all, they know it is important, but because they have no ego, they do not care. Their simplicity gives them the certainty of sanctity.
By contrast, you, perhaps, and I, perhaps, have ego. We believe, perhaps, that we are constant and that we are real, solid in flesh and secure in mind about our future and the world we have created, safe in our houses and in our belief in ourselves. If so, we have forgotten that the world we have created is ephemeral and transitory, that it is disappearing in every moment without our knowing it to be replaced by a new dimensional reality in which our acceptance of our new consciousness and state of being will determine our spiritual and human future. It is life and death in perfect expression, but the experience of it is withheld by the desires of the self.
It is time to abandon ego; it is time for Leo too at this full moon to put aside personal interest and to become the gentle lioness supporting Gaia selflessly as she moves forward into her sacred future, each an example and guide for us to follow. It is our future also, and it is wonderful, but to achieve it means letting go of who we are. “That am I” is gone, and we all may wish to ponder what is left.