As I walk into my bedroom, there, sitting in the middle of my bed, wrapped in a blanket, is Fia. Fia is my heart in sprite form. Fia has the Scottish meaning for fire. She can morph into any human-looking form when she chooses, and not on request, much to my dismay. As I sit down next to her, I ask her what is going on? It is unlike her to sit all curled up in a blanket.
Fia shares she feels overwhelmed with the things going on in our world and the energy of the collective. She is glad we grounded and connected to mother earth this morning, but she needed time and a little more comfort.
As we sit in the quiet together, I give her space and time to think and speak. I am unsure if she realizes it, but as she thinks, the parts of her interacting are projected around her form. It is not very obvious, and because she thinks so quickly, the images shift quickly. The images around her are like a hologram that uses the energy around her body. They are translucent; you can still see her small presence and facial expressions within this glimmering mirage. So far, I have seen the crone, a male warrior, a Viking woman warrior, a tiny child crying, and the earth.
She continues to say that it is okay to grieve, as the earth and the crone have shown her. It is okay to feel all of the sadness, anger, disbelief, confusion, and bargaining. She wants to do more. She wants to help more people. She understands the best way to start is to focus on hope and asking her divine council for help. She is scared that it isn’t enough. We have been on our own, trying to start these companies, and every time we think we get close, there is a change in us. How can we start engaging with the world and helping them? Especially one person at a time when we too are moving, changing, morphing all the time?