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Qoztacoatl

Qoztacoatl

I straddle a point in time. The sun is at its zenith in the Northern Hemisphere. Two years have past since I sat, on a sunny solstice day, and pondered the dark clouded storm I’d been living in. It was a storm that churned my nervous systems and included sweeping wildfires of rage. I was so frequently overwhelmed by life, it would have been easier to let my floundering self fly away and be done with it. Parts of me did fly away and die. Bits of perfection went north, shards of obligation to the east, fragments of worry and fear went west and south. Now, without those pieces, the woman today feels lighter, and somewhat foreign in her own body and experience.

Two years are all she’s lived in a more regulated body. Being embodied has an unfamiliar heaviness to the limbs, and yet, an eternally familiar hominess. In Spanish the word for “cozy” is acogedor (ah-co-heh-dor). My mind conjures the sensation of a hug when I hear this word. I feel this word. My body has become this word.

Two solstices ago I started to journey through the eye of a needle into the cavernous chambers of my own heart and soul. I was transported away and was deeply remembered by my own self.

And just as above, so it is below. A winter solstice is had, in the same moment, in the Southern Hemisphere. That sphere transformed me earlier in life into another version of myself. This moment, of shortest and longest, is like a snake eating its own tail infinitely. An ouroboros, or Qoztacoatl, the Aztec god who protects The Tree of Life. I have become that. I protect life and am in a perpetual cycle of evolution. Round and round we go.


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