Of Canyons and Still Lakes Reflecting

I sit atop a tumble of red rocks deep within the canyon, stark cliffs rising all around in shades of orange, tan and greenish-grey. My dear friend Kelli continues the steep climb to the top of Kitchen Mesa, but knee strain and disinterest in destination~~even one with such stunning views~~urged me to turn around and allow my journey to unfold in a different way. I’d been moving steadily through stands of weather~worn juniper and cedar when these red rocks called me to them. And now, I simply sit.

           

We have come to Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu for a much needed retreat. My life has been a whirlwind of activity these past few months, and I’ve been spinning right along with it. It’s all been good, with a certainty that I’m where I need to be, doing as I’m meant to do and, luckily, as I want to do as well. In that way, I’ve felt in accord.

           

And yet, the rapid fire succession of experience following experience, needed decision following needed decision, loved visitor following loved visitor has left me externally oriented, focused on the temporal, tied to a world of this and that. I’ve been all motion and no stillness. I’ve been all rushing river and no still lake reflecting sky. And it is still lake reflecting sky that I yearn for now. And so this is what I become.

           

I look up to the cliffs, down to the rough earth, deep blue sky arcing over it all. Wind is the only sound as it rushes past my ears and whistles through the branches of nearby trees. With a prayer that it be recycled to good purpose, I release my frenetic energy to that wind, each gusty blast of clean air taking what I no longer need.

           

I inhale and the surrounding expanse fills me. I exhale and give it all back. Rushing water gradually settles into calm lake.

           

My relief is palpable. Do water molecules feel such solace upon arriving at the lake after a tumultuous dance down the mountainside? Water molecules~~some of the least likely teachers in this arid land, yet teachers they are to me now. They love it all, they tell me~~the giddy glee of rapid movement and the serenity of quiet reflection.

           

The secret, they whisper, is to discover serenity in the movement and spirited joy in the stillness. Yin and Yang, each embracing the other within the boundless eternal.

I’m home now, sitting at my desk, the ticking clock the only sound I hear. Life has swept me back into itself, a rushing river carrying me away once more. Yet in this moment, serenity is mine, even as my molecules dance with abandon.

Blessed dancing to ya!

Loanne Marie

  

But there's more...a poem that came from the essay above. But first, an explanation...

At a writing workshop I attended a few years back, there was a wonderful exercise. We were given about 45 minutes to write a few pages about some theme I don't now remember. After we'd had time to work it and become enthralled with our words, the teacher said, "Great! Now cut it down to one page." We groaned, but did as we were told, xing off whole lines, keeping what was best. After 20 minutes or so, she said, "Great! Now 25 words." What an exercise, learning to let go, to not be too attached, to find the kernel within our wordiness.

So here’s the a poem I wrote from this essay. You’ll find that it differs in ways other than length. One metaphor flew the coop while another arrived to replace it. These things happen sometimes and who am I to quibble?!! Here it is, to be read slowly, as a meditation which, in fact, it was and continues to be with each re~read…

A tumble of red rocks

Calls me to the canyon floor.

Cliffs rise...orange, tan, greenish~grey.

Wind the only sound.

I sit on hallowed ground,

Hallowed ground hollowing me,

Canyoning me,

That I might better hold the Light.

And that’s not all, gals and guys! Here are two pictures Kelli took from the top of the mesa. Almost makes me wish I’d made the climb! Namaste, ya’ll!

Shadow Play

One of my favorite prayers begins this way…“I breathe with the universal forces of creation.” Oh, my, what a line! While there are many ways to understand these words, let’s take our cue from eastern spiritual traditions and the concept of Yin Yang. 

Our world is one of duality, a world of this and that, light and dark, movement and stillness, growth and decay. Yang is the term for the active, expansive energies, while Yin refers to those that are receptive and inward~turning. Yang builds up while Yin lets go. Yin and Yang are not antagonistic, but complementary halves of a unified whole. The prayer above encourages us to breathe in harmony with them. 

It does something more, though. It points to the literal truth that we actually embody Yin Yang in every breath we take.We energize as we draw in oxygen on the inhale, activating Yang energy. Yin comes as we relax into the exhale, releasing carbon dioxide. When we breathe with this awareness, Yin and Yang cease to be concepts. No longer mere nouns, they have become verbs. We Yang on the inhale and Yin on the exhale.

            

Instinctively, we know that, in the breath, the two need to be in balance. So, too, throughout our lives. Yin and Yang are then able to flow one to the other as effortlessly as an easy, relaxed respiration cycle.

            

By becoming conscious of the larger forces reflected in the breath, we’re given a framework to take with us into the world, one that helps us organize our experience, recognize when our balance is off, and intuit how to restore it. When we notice we're not doing what needs doing~~through procrastination, avoidance or just plain laziness~~we recognize we need to Yang it up a bit. And when we’re pushing too hard, we know a dollop of Yin is called for. The latter happened in my world just this morning.

            

Early attempts to write this essay were not successful. I couldn’t string two sentences together in a pleasing way, and the words were not doing what I had already decided they would do. Still I pressed on, despite a growing frustration. And then it came to me. I was willfully pushing ahead, trying to force a process that couldn’t be forced. I was lopsided, leaning too far toward Yang~~while I was exploring the need for balance, no less! Ah, the irony.

            

With that recognition, though, my path forward became clear. I needed to slow down and invite some Yin into the mix. I sat a few minutes in the April sunshine. I mindfully prepared a pot of soup for dinner. I reminded myself that all was well, that an essay would, indeed, get written. And I accepted that I could not Yang my way to the finished piece.

            

No, balance was needed~~the Yang dedication to working the words, yes, but with a Yin receptivity that would allow them to evolve in their own way. Things progressed more smoothly after that. And my learning of an hour or two earlier is now an integral part of this final piece. Yin mixed with Yang to create something I could not have foreseen.

            

And so we practice consciously blending Yin and Yang in proportions appropriate to each situation. As we do this, though, something else occurs. We find ourselves moving toward that which is greater and more enduring than either one or both together.

            

Yin and Yang do make our physical world possible and offer us a playground in which to develop our personalities and grow our spirits. But that duality is also illusion, mere shadow play. Yin and Yang stream from a greater energy, one whose Light shines through them both.

            

We do, indeed, breathe with the universal forces of creation~~the Yin, the Yang and that unfathomable Oneness which infuses and illuminates them both. 

Blessings on your own Yin Yang shadow play!

Loanne Marie