As
I drove up the winding, washboard of a road this morning, pieces of me dropped
away like yesterday’s clothing. My
therapist self~~whish! Married woman, friend~~gone! Busy, competent someone~~no
more. Writer~~only in snippets to be woven into coherence later.
I’ve come for a solo stay in the national forest to touch more fully the current that runs beneath and through the particulars of my life. My campsite is lovely, secluded among trees running along a shallow creek. Water dancing over river rock is the only sound I hear.
Stillness returns. Or rather, this space welcomes me back into a stillness that exists always. I settle in, just another rock in the streambed. Here, I know myself as a temporary collection of borrowed components, held together by the thinnest of gossamer threads.
I’ve come for a solo stay in the national forest to touch more fully the current that runs beneath and through the particulars of my life. My campsite is lovely, secluded among trees running along a shallow creek. Water dancing over river rock is the only sound I hear.
Stillness returns. Or rather, this space welcomes me back into a stillness that exists always. I settle in, just another rock in the streambed. Here, I know myself as a temporary collection of borrowed components, held together by the thinnest of gossamer threads.
Religions
distinguish themselves by belief and practice. As I move through my own
spiritual life, though, what folks believe and specific rites are not so
important to me. What
interests me is if someone can stand in awe, and if that person can risk
dissolving into the vast flow, even for a brief moment. If so, we are kindred
spirits, no matter our beliefs.
Night
comes and goes. Just after sunrise, I hike to the ridge line and sit at 11,000
feet. The land falls away before me only to rise again, undulating to a 14,000
foot crescendo. If
someone feels a quickening at such a sight, if a person can appreciate what
this immensity means for one small human’s plans, if one can live from that felt awareness, then I care little what story is
told to explain it.
Individual
lives are like houses. Some are spacious with a nice floor plan, some cramped
and in bad neighborhoods. All, however, are containers for a soul. The
essence that we are, and are yet to become, can make use of any dwelling. But
with access to that which moves beyond, a soul blossoms.
These
houses of ours come with many doors and windows, portals to vastness. Whether
wide~opened or shuttered, these openings urge us not to confuse the structure
of our lives with life itself. And
they offer a pathway into that which endures.
When we move into that endless field and breathe deeply what is found
there, we are nourished. From
that vantage point, the houses of our lives seem a bit like movie sets. We may
like the movie or not, but the particular plot line is a bit less compelling.
I’ve
returned now to a life that waited patiently during my excursion into nature.
My pieces came together again as easily as they were shed. Refreshed,
enlivened, with eyes clear and heart open, I resume my activities, touching
within them what truly matters.
Namaste!
Loanne Marie
2 comments:
Thank you Loanne for the reminder of how valuable a day, or even a moment of reflection and oneness with self is so important to see the oneness of ALL. Grounding oneself in order to connect with the whole.
Sounds like a wonderful time, thank you for sharing your stillness! In joy
Katy
And thank you again for sharing your thank yous! It oftentimes is much easier than we make it, isn't it?
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