A mysterious shape that was hard to describe or give words to.
It appeared to have a weight and substance to it and a quality of organic aliveness and presence.
But what was it?
It was so hard to tell, with it being covered with time, covered with earth and dirt and age.
It was tempting to put it down, to walk away but every time she tried, it seemed to be back in her lap infront of her, asking for the warmth of her attention.
And so she sat with it, allowing its presence, allowing it’s company.
At first she couldn’t go near it or touch it but it was allowed.
Over time, she brought a bucket of water and began cleaning some of the dirt to get a better view,
Using brushes to clear off some of the dark.
Turning and cleaning, turning and scrubbing.
Methodical, rhythmic, almost musical scrubbing,
It looked sometimes like an onion! A big yellowish onion, a Massive and Enormous onion!
The outside of which, once it had been cleaned of dirt, looked so very ready to shed.
So she began to peal.
Some places and pieces fell and opened and unveiled with ease. Some petals were stuck together, some seemed almost glued together, some almost frozen together, some congealed, some tightly packed together.
It took skills like some ancient archaeologist to scrape off layers so carefully and gently with such patience and noticing.
It took skills of art restoration or conservation to use gentle cotton buds and water to tease off layers. Without damaging anything at all.
It took the warmth of her heart to soften and relax and open the petals.
It took the strength of her fortitude to stay at it.
She Thought it was some kind of Roald Dahl type book, or some strange Rumpelstiltskin type task – “The never-ending onion”!
But this Was the task.
Sitting and opening petals.
So carefully, so gently, so slowly.
One by one.
No rush, no pressure, no time constraints.
For as long as it took.
Summer turned to winter and the 8 fold year turned again and again and again.
Still she sat with this shape and all the gifts that it brought as each piece revealed more medicine.
Some petals brought tears to the eyes and the heart,
Some pieces brought tenderising and softening.
The shape got lighter and lighter, in colour and energy.
It started to turn more golden
Ever more golden.
Ever more sweet.
Ever more soft.
Ever more joyful.
Ever more beautiful.
Ever more radiant.
Ever more magnificent.
It never was an onion,
It was a Lotus blossom all along.
It was her true nature.
Unfurling and Unfurled.