It’s been a great source of wonder to me how a word, a sentence, a mental image or a simple physical manifestation out in the world pops up — seemingly out of nowhere — and then continues to unfold for weeks, months, even years, revealing new dimensions of its meaning every time.

Such is the case with an experience I had last August, one that I’ve come to refer to as “Snail Mail”.

On that day I was writing in my journal, struggling to unravel a lion-sized hairball that I’d sensed to occupy the region of my solar plexus since the start of Leo’s Sun-time in July.

Then, without warning, by a familiar, deep-within voice, this thought freed itself from my Soul —

“The war you’re fighting is not yours to fight.”

So there it was. A message that brought instant clarity to my mind, and expansive, loving lightness to my heart.

For a few moments, I just rested in that space, looking away from the journal to face the edge of the woods outside my open window, ready to turn within for deeper reflection. And there, before my eyes, on the window sill, was a snail.

In the 25 years I’ve lived in this house, it was the first snail I’d ever seen this far off the ground or inside my house. No question in my heart or mind. This was a message. Or was it the messenger?

I scooted my chair closer to the window sill. I’d never really sat with the exquisite spiralling geometry of a garden snail this close. In a while, I got a photo, then turned back to the computer to make a couple of notes. I could hear a bit of thunder while I typed, and turned back toward the window to check the sky.

Now there was a butterfly on the sill, just inches from the snail!

A Northern Pearly-eye, just like one I’d seen on a blade of grass the day before, and had invited to come visit my window sill sometime. Somebody of his species already had, many times before.

But never a butterfly AND a snail. Such joy and wonder flooded all levels of my Being, that I forgot the profound thought that had preceeded this spontaneous encounter at the edge of the window.

A small flash of lightning then, and more thunder, and this crazy butterfly took off, right into whatever was coming. Yet, I knew deep within, that he would be back in a bit.

I made a few more notes in my journal, just a word or so to bring me back into it when I was ready. When I heard the rain hitting the deck around my planters, I turned again to the window sill. Pearly-eye was already back, pretty much eye-to-eye with Snail.

I sat with them, and only after a long while did I come back to the wondering — what is the war, and why isn’t it mine?

I just realized that question surfaced exactly six months ago, and almost (as evidenced by the time stamp on the photos) to the exact hour. I did not plan to write any of this today. It just kind of happened.

I have much more to write about the sheddings, transformations and insights that have unfolded — and continue to unfold — from this experience and others like it. But for now, I just wanted to share, in words and images, what lifted it all into the light.