Fictional Penelope Yearborne is an ancient soul trying to pass as a modern day woman.
Walking down Brighten Street, Penelope Yearborne wondered if the Western approach to setting goals on January 1st was really a secret plot by the Royals to keep the common people exhausted and just short of success. Why else push the New Year up more than a month, breaking with the Cycles of Nature? Certainly they weren’t foolish enough to think they could get a head start on the year.
Penelope dodged anyone with an extra pep in their step. Keeping her pace controlled, she was careful not to get any ambition on her. Although, most people can make an ambitious push through the cold, dry months of Winter without much more consequence than simple dissatisfaction, Penelope’s role made her incredibly vulnerable to the smallest contamination.
With a gloved hand, she pressed through her coat on the sapphire pendant covering her heart. The pin tip barely pierced her skin and reassured her it was active. Not wanting to repeat any dark winters of the past, she had bought the piece along with the navy pea coat she wore expressly for this purpose.
Penelope had just enough fuel to keep her own inner fire lit until Spring, and that was with keeping her flame low. Susceptible to quick flare ups, she’d experienced complete burnout before and had to be diligently mindful. The Factors had made it clear to her a few years back that she needed to fall in line with the Cycles of Nature immediately, or have the opportunity to fall in line during her next lifetime, effective immediately.
Although deep down, she knew that the soul’s journey was so much more significant than the human one and that detachment is totally noble, Penelope’s current ego had grown quite attached to living. Nowadays, she usually spends her time between the Solstice and Groundhog’s Day in the comfort of her home; sorting, dusting, mending, completing all accounts, reading, contemplating, and putting away any disorder from the previous year.
However, circumstances have forced her to be out on the town today, and she wasn’t going to take any chances. The pendant and coat were necessary protections no matter what her budget had to say about it.
She knew better than to cast any spells during these six weeks. But Tarot cards don’t really count. Today, she’d pulled
the High priestess, sitting patiently on her throne, draped in Indigo and stillness. Take no action, she had said, looking straight into Penelope’s eyes.
Here it is, almost 11:11 am. Penelope should be in a peaceful place, tuning into the wisdom of the Cosmos; allowing it’s information to stream past her mind, past her heart, and into her womb, and then waiting for the knowledge of how to best move forward to break the surface and come into the light at its proper time. Just like the groundhog (or snake rather).
But instead, she’s resisting the urge to rush down a busy street to meet up with a man she hardly knows. Penelope slowed her pace again and wished she was home drinking a cup of hot tea. She reminded herself that January was the month of No: no decisions, no commitments, no goals, no obligations, no strong opinions. So, whatever proposition this Clark McNaughtry was going to suggest, she already had her answer.
Penelope felt the High Priestess’s cool breath lowering the temperature of Penelope’s temperament. She pressed one last time on the sapphire, smoothed her coat as a wave of calm washed over her, and reached for the knocker on Mr. McNaughtry’s office door.
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“I write to open up space for my heart and head to tumble, stumble, bounce, and roll. I write to explore the magic of our world and the power of words. I write to expose the tragic truth of life as well as the authentic abundance and joy. These stories are meant to inspire all of us facing the challenge of knowing and honoring our authentic self in a world of commands and demands. Sign up below to get weekly writing delivered directly to your inbox and let the magic inspire you.” – Jessica Sabatini
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