December 2, 2013
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The wind is no where and everywhere.
The wind is a mover and a shaker.
The wind blows in and blows out.
The wind moves the rain in and dries the rain out.
The wind draws tears from my eyes.
See it. Hear it. Feel it.
See it ruffle the leaves on the trees.
See it shake the branches; see them quiver and sway.
See it pick up and toss dried, fallen leaves.
See it stream clouds across the sky; see them roll past, fast.
See it knock over an empty garbage can; see it tumble away.
Hear it rustle leaves on the trees.
Hear it whistle through the needles of the pine trees.
Hear it skate over your ears.
Hear it howl and scream.
Hear it slam the door shut.
Feel it pass over your skin.
Feel it whip at your hair.
Feel it blow into your eyes, dirt.
Feel it toss into your face, sand.
Feel it try to push you over.
The wind is an actor. The wind acts. The wind performs actions. The wind also talks, if you listen.
The wind brushes through blades of grass.
The wind stirs the boughs of the cedar tree.
The wind claps the fan of the palm tree.
I wonder if the wind can clear our energy fields of the “dust” and “debris” that gets stuck in our auras? I like to imagine so. Sometimes I stand in a strong wind, arms wide open, and let it clear my field.
I let the wind wash over me and around me.
I let it hold me.
I let it refresh me.
Mt. Ventoux, France