The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green. ~ Thomas Carlyle
Oh, after two months of house- and dog-sitting, I am home again! At the beginning of my stay, I missed being home. Now, the change of residence calls for adapting again.
Change calls for acceptance, adaptability, and flexibility. Imagine a lump of clay dissolving in water. We can be like
• the water, which embraces all things;
• the clay, which adapts to its surroundings;
• a piece of iron that melts in a furnace, burning with passion or molding ourselves into a new creation, having passed through heat that tempers and strengthens us. (Quantum God, Chapter 20: Change is the only unchanging aspect of life)
Water is truly the element that adapts to its conditions.
Water reminds me of the empath, the person who identifies with and feels what another is feeling.
A little girl once ran home and tugged on her mother’s arm. “I just saw Mr. Wilson,” she said. “He was sitting on his front porch, and he was crying.”
“Oh, you didn’t bother him, did you? You know he just lost Mrs. Wilson.”
“No, Mama,” said the little girl. “I climbed up on his lap and cried with him.”
What a vivid illustration of empathy! And surely all of us are moved to sadness, wonder, or joy by many of the encounters we have. Sometimes, however, we soak up those vibrations, as I did last year with the old dog’s stiffness and pains—and then had a hell of a time getting rid of those destructive energies.
For Christmas, my empathic daughter asked for a concoction of essential oils that help shield her from negative energy. As for me, particularly before I visit Pam in the Alzheimer’s care center, I try to remember to form an intention to radiate instead of absorb—to flow out, rather than soak up energy.
This week, I intend to continue the practice of radiating, especially when change calls for adapting. One thing that will not change, though, is the love and blessings flowing out to you, dear heart.