Desert Hymn

I sit on my cushion, which itself sits upon the sands of the Sonoran desert. As the sun has yet to clear the hills, the air is still quite cool. Swaddled in layers, though, I am comfortable. Saguaro and palo verde trees are silhouetted against a dawn blue sky. The subtle smells of the desert and a joyous racket of birdsong arrive on air that is a caress. I settle into this place, its outer spaciousness opening me to an inner one. 

Suddenly, a commotion to my right pulls my attention. I open my eyes to two birds on the ground, scuttling about in a flurry of feathers and sand. I am captivated...until they fly off to the next event of their birdy day. I close my eyes again. As my awareness begins to expand once more, I recognize the message here: to let the world call us to itself, to respond as situation and temperament inspire, and then to come back to open awareness. 

Fast forward a couple of weeks. I have gone to the bathhouse in the night. A desert rain is on its way and the trees thrum with joy, leaves dancing in a breeze both gentle and insistent. The sky overflows with stars, and I know this is all too lovely to miss by crawling back into bed. 

I stand for long minutes, silently absorbing this desert mosaic. And then a song, spontaneous and with notes unplanned, moves through my lips and out into the night, my hymn to the desert. And somewhere inside I know that this is how it always is, each of us offering our song to the world. 

Fast forward again to last night, sitting outdoors on my cushion before bed. All is silent…until a series of barks, yips and high pitched howls fills the night, a group of desert coyotes offering their own song to the world.  

Throughout this magical time in the desert, my life unfolds as usual. I meet by phone or video with clients who continue to inspire me, and I plan a Spring Equinox Women’s Retreat. I love my husband, and feel immense gratitude for this steadfast and open~hearted partner. And I engage in all the other activities of a human life, better learning in the process to weave spirit through them all. 

Retreats are a time out of time. Their gifts are given moment to moment, and they remain forever. Of course, we will forget the particular insights, the sudden understanding of larger patterns that makes things fall into place. But forgetting is not the same as not knowing. We can never unknow what has been learned. With a welcoming attitude and sufficient space, those gifts will bubble up once more, just when they are needed the most. 

So let us remember what we know, this day and always. And may we each sing out our own unique hymn to a world that longs for our voice, clear and sweet and true. Amin.

Leia