Interesting meditation today. I've found myself crying for no apparent reason, and with no particular emotion, just a lot of it, every once in a while over the last month or so. I've an inkling of what it was about, and that it was related to my decision to consciously allow more vulnerability and to tear off old bandages. When I've meditated on that in the past, it shows me as bleeding freely from many open wounds. Some of them heal quickly. Others are still bleeding. I'm standing at the top of a mountain, with the blood running in rivulets down the stones, into the tree-line, and down into the valleys. The blood will draw some predators, but I'm battled-hardened enough to make short work of them. The blood will also draw those lost in the woods, an impossible to ignore marker to the way home. I've been sitting with that for awhile, just studying it. There's not much to do but to watch and see how it manifests. Curiosity rather than fear or control seems the best way to approach it. So this morning, I was doing the meditation part of my morning reflective hour, when tears just started flowing down my cheeks. I wasn't sad, or angry, or joyful. It was just tears of release. I asked about it, and saw very clearly that my tears were the melt from the ice that's encased my heart for so many years. I had a sense of settling into my body, warm and alive. And a heard a promise that embracing the essential nature of the form I'm housed in; a land mammal that's both predator and prey, sensitive, and fully engaged with life, will lead me to places and people that fulfill me in every way. I already see it in some of the friends I've made and in my work. I'm looking forward to seeing where all of this goes.