***
It was a luminous dawn, the world blanketed in a thick cocoon of frost against the darkness and silence of a newborn morning. The sun rose, pale and gold, strewing a million diamonds on the tarmac path; setting a fire in the heart of ice. There is a magic in the morning light that seems to bathe even the hard edges of winter in a soft glow. Where the light streams, its gentle warmth sends showers of tiny droplets glinting to earth, yet where the shadows hang heavy, the frost lingers, clinging to the day with hoary fingers.
***
***
Looking down, splashes of unexpected colour stand out against the whitened world… the scarlet stalks of ivy and bramble, the earth tones of autumnal remains and the vibrant shades of the evergreens. Details, hitherto unnoticed, leap to the attention, thrown into relief by the blank canvas of the frost. Shapes unseen are highlighted; fractal patterns that seem to hold the story of creation in their humble familiarity.
***
***
Looking up, the birds are waking, stretching chilled wings against the morning. I wonder at them… their delicate frames and fragile bones kept safe through the frozen night by no more than a feather. So tiny, so light, yet they can fly against the storm winds and through the battering of the rains. This morning I watched the sparrows as they woke, fluffing their plumage as we might shake an eiderdown. Such busy little birds, clinging to the smallest perch to watch the day begin.
***
***
Light strikes the trees, turning them golden as the sun rises higher, painting the doves pink and waking the jackdaws in a flurry of wings. On the low roof the frost crystals turn the little clumps of moss into the hollow hills and forests of a faery landscape where imagination walks, painting tales of otherworlds to be explored. Even the cars are clad in jewelled fur that makes them look like the surface of some fantastic planet.
***
***
I love mornings like this. They truly are magical, both to see and to ponder, when the delicate overlay of a winter frost changes everything and yet the beauties revealed by the frost are always there, just waiting for us to see them. We are blind to the familiar world, habituated to its presence. It takes change to open our eyes and hearts to what is already there waiting for us. In this way such a morning reflects the journey of the seeker; turning to face the light of being and seeing that no matter how far the journey may lead, no matter how many changes may come, the destination has always been a place never left.
***
***
Sue Vincent was a Director of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, from its inception in 2012 until her untimely death in 2021.
This book is a collection of her writings in that role.
In these monographs, originally published as blog-posts, her unique and unmistakable voice relates the trials, tribulations, challenges and joys attendant upon the setting up and successful stewardship of a Modern Mystery school – it’s birth on the inner planes, and its pioneering work which ultimately led it from the safety of the traditional indoor temple and out into the wild and rugged landscapes of the Blessed Isles of Albion.
Amusing, inspiring, and enlightening, in turns, these stories relate above all else what it is to be truly human in an increasingly dystopian technocratic age.
I have my copy of Wisdom’s Way, and it will be a regular inspiring companion on my reading table…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you… Sue would be thrilled! 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
💕
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie.
LikeLike
How I miss you Sue 💜💜💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Sue will always live through her magical writing. xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
I miss sue…she was awesome
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for keeping her voice out in the world, Stu. She is missed!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So wonderful to hear Sue’s voice. I was privileged to have met her in person. And to enjoy her wonder and words about the favorite part of her day!
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉
LikeLike
Yes, thank you. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉
LikeLiked by 1 person