Change

Do you feel it coming? Change is imminent. It’s the cool breeze on an otherwise hot August day. It’s the colorful ripeness of harvest. It’s the sale sign in department stores overstocked with backpacks and loose-leaf paper; trendy jeans and sports gear; this-year’s-Disney lunch boxes and impossibly slim calculators with incongruously thick instruction books.

Chicago has only two seasons – Winter and road construction. Phase one of this summer’s road work is yet to be complete, but in a familiar mad-dash attempt to get every street and highway up to the level of functional, thousands of new orange signs and cones have appeared in the last week. This coincides with the increase in traffic which accompanies the sudden/obvious realization that the kids are going to need new everything for school.

The lazy pace of the “dog days” is overlaid with detours, stress, and apologies to the dentist, the barber, the woman who gives the sport’s physicals so the doctor can do more important things, and the coach who has set up practices every day of the two weeks leading up to the first day of school and who can’t understand how - when he is giving up HIS summer – we can’t just get there on time.

I stare through the sliding door, noticing the faded colors of our deck furniture as they sit under the same intense sun they’ve enjoyed (endured?) for months. Beyond them, the sky is summer-blue, the trees are dark and full, the bushes are overgrown, uneven, in need of trimming (again) and the determined weeds are thriving while the flowers in my garden are waving a white flag.

The nearness of the coming shift is blaring in my head, much like the car alarm which erupted yesterday, in the middle of my session with C. My sons are heading back to college – one for his second year and one for his last. My younger daughter and the exchange student who lives with us will be heading back to high school. My older daughter – who has gone through changes of her own this summer - is a married woman now. Tomorrow I will head up to see her for the first time since the wedding.

This goes on around me, seen through new eyes – more focused, more certain, more aware. Emotions come to me so much more easily now. They engulf me like the humid August air and I succumb to them in a way my lilies give in to the milkweed. Okay. I'll make room. You have a right to be here, too.

Feelings wash over me. I wade into anger, tread sorrow, dive into fear and come up for relief. I wonder at their intensity and then again at their brevity. Before I'm used to one state of being, another is on upon me.

Nothing lasts forever – not anxiety, not despair, not the hundred-and-twenty-dollar-guaranteed-for-life backpack my son has loaded with six-hundred-dollars worth of textbooks (bought used, online, at a fraction of the original cost – what a deal). The cyclical nature of everything is proof that when I find myself in the darkest places, I know I will find my way out.

Nothing lasts forever = hope.

I will find the light, immerge, and once again pull peace/joy/gratitude gratefully into my lungs. When I come up from the depths, the air will always be there.

Change is the constant, yet we imagine life in stages, in the spaces in-between. We pause in the calm that exists after one breeze and before the next, in the momentary stillness when one waves has crashed over us and another is approaching, and we think this is life. For all the songs we've sung and poems we've written about the journey, we still think the destination - the stopping point - is where we're meant to be.

The reality is the opposite.

Shifting
Variety
Instability
The pendulum’s swing between day and night
The rotating seasons of each year and each life
That's the meat we are meant to chew and savor in the breakroom of life.

Those moments in between are merely an offering from God to step back, to take in what we’ve learned before it’s time to move forward again. In that stillness we live outside the change that is life and have the opportunity to connect with the eternal. Motionless instants – few and elusive – hold within them the reality of our souls.

Illusion = a stagnant pond
Truth = the river of life
Lessons swirl around us and promise is only a ripple away.

Yesterday, C loaned me a book by Dr. Christine Northrup. The book is called, “The Wisdom of Menopause”. The book holds promise. It speaks of new beginnings, of goals and focus of a different kind.
Change is scary, but the fear is fleeting and making it through can bring valid and worthwhile gains. When I look at change as opportunity - as movement toward and not away from – I'm able to wait with anticipation for the next wave to come.

When I “entered womanhood” (this phrase in itself an ugly misnomer as I am fairly certain I am not now leaving womanhood) I was angry, fearful, and sad. I felt the loss of some piece of who I am as a veil of instinct fell over me. I grew used to the idea that this is who I was. I was here to create life, to nest and nurture. That was how I was meant to find fulfillment… and I did. Having and raising children has been an incredible ride and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Without that very necessary instinctual drive I would likely never have brought these amazing people into the world.

With that work nearly done, a growing sense of loss has had me searching for myself once again. I felt pulled in other directions, but also felt guilty. It seemed wrong to be focused more on myself than my children and my husband. I was confused. What was my purpose? Who was I if I was not taking care of others?

I stand in that space, in-between - in that little bit of peace before the next wave crashes, and I feel lost. I feel the tide's aproach, the strong undertow giving it away. I plant my feet, legs wide, arms outstretched, to steady myself as best I can. I’m pulled, swayed, lifted, kicking and flailing and finding the ground again and again.

It's hard work. Gradually, I stop fighting. I lift my feet from the sandy bottom and float, bobbing.

Eyes closed, I let it come. I connect with the universe, the terror of the unknown quickening my heart. Inside - deep, hidden - I search for that eternal stillness and when (not if) I find it, it calms me like a drug.

Deep breath.
Hold it now.
Submerge.
Eyes open.
Waiting.
Letting go,
And
Then
I
know.

I know who I am. I know, and it’s amazing. I realize that I'm the only one who can be this person. It’s an awesome responsibility to know that no one else can be what I am. I can fill this space that’s made perfectly for me AND
there’s time – so much time –
AND there’s nothing else I have to do.

The Labyrinth Meditation

I’m always looking for new experiences. So when I read this description of an upcoming event in the area, how could I resist?

This month's meditation will be a special summer edition, a Labyrinth meditation, which will be held outdoors.

For centuries, labyrinths have held great spiritual significance. Labyrinth patterns have been found on pottery and clay tablets dating back 4,000 years. Ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Spaniards, Native Americans, Vietnamese, and South Americans have used labyrinths for thousands of years to draw closer to the divine. During the Crusades, Christians walked the labyrinth to simulate the journey to Jerusalem, in Native American culture, the labyrinth is called the Medicine Wheel, and the Celts described it as the Never Ending Circle. In mystical Judaism, or Kabbalah, The Tree of Life has been likened to the labyrinth.

The labyrinth has been called a metaphor of life’s journey.

This sounded too interesting an opportunity to miss. I had seen something about labyrinth use in Native American traditions. The labyrinth patterns have been found on artifacts all over the world – including in the Americas and Australia. It has been hypothesized that Native Americans arrived on this continent between the time dogs were domesticated (at least eleven thousand years ago) and the time horses were domesticated (less than six thousand years ago). This theory is based on the fact that there were domestic dogs in the Americas, but there were no horses until the Europeans brought them here.

If, as the similarities suggest,the labyrinth idea was carried by the earliest settlers of these continents, then it must date back close to six thousand years. That is fascinating to me.

It was a beautiful July evening. My kids and husband had plans for the evening, leaving me free to check out this labyrinth meditation. The Unity Church where this was being held was over thirty miles from where I live, so I got myself together early, anticipating rush-hour traffic. After a drive which was free of anything one might associate with rush hour, I arrived at my destination a half hour early.

My usually internal chaos began to fight with reality, bringing some panic as I approached the church. I often feel like an outsider in places of worship. Knowing that is a learned response doesn’t make the feelings go away.

Once inside, I could see the Labyrinth through the large windows on the other side of the building. Someone had set it up using stakes (sticking out of the ground about six inches) and what looked like orange tape. I wished I’d brought a camera. I was instantly intrigued by the pattern of orange on the summer-green grass.

Will we stand around it?

Will we walk inside it?

This is the pattern used for the labyrinth.

This pattern is called the Chakravyuha. According to the Mahābhārata, (one of the two major Sanskrit epics of ancient India) It is supposed to look like a blooming lotus flower. The story and this particular labyrinth pattern is thought to date back to about 400 BC.

While I was researching labyrinths in order to write this review, this morning, I came across these paragraphs:

When walking through a labyrinth, your body tends to turn back and forth - first you're moving right, next you're going to the left, with a 180 degree turn each time. This causes you to shift your awareness from the right side of the brain to the left, and then back again. It is believed that this is one of the reasons why a labyrinth walk can induce varied states of consciousness.

Consider for a moment what problems -- either physical, spiritual, external, or emotional -- you would like to find a resolution for at this time. As you walk towards the center, you will begin working out solutions for your problem.

You can read the rest of this article here

This sounded so much like what I do in the DNMS sessions with C that I have to wonder how much of a role the left/right shift actually played in my euphoric feeling last night.

For a Wednesday night, the Unity Church seemed pretty busy. People were talking in the hall, while others were carrying guitars and other instruments. A book store was open and several people were milling about. I asked if anyone knew what was going on with the labyrinth meditation, but those I spoke with said only, “Well, there is a labyrinth in the garden… they built it this afternoon.”

Standing around there I was beginning to feel very out of place. I was refusing to let myself give into panic, but I was considering the options.

My car is only a few steps out the door.

At around seven fifteen a group of women, all with a purposeful gate and friendly demeanor, came through the doors. I asked them if they knew about the labyrinth meditation.

They did. They welcomed me warmly and invited me to join them outside, to wait near the labyrinth. I began to feel much calmer.

One woman was wearing an ID around her neck, which said “Chaplain”. I am so ignorant of terms like this that I really am still not certain what that means, but I gathered that she was somehow connected to the church. As we all sat outside on a patio and waited for the festivities to begin, we introduced ourselves.

The topic of religion and spirituality was a natural at an event like this. It was quite obvious they all knew each other, but they did their best to make me feel included. They asked me what had brought me to this event. I told them I'd found the announcement online, that it sounded interesting, that I hadn’t been raised in any faith, but I have been looking into all the possibilities, recently. I mentioned my fascination with Shamanism, and said I had been to the Unitarian Universalist church a few times.

The Chaplain said I should come by on a Sunday.

She said it calmly, with a friendly, relaxed face, but I was wary of being coerced. A memory from my childhood flashed in my mind.

I had accompanied my grandparents and my great aunt to a Southern Baptist church when I was around ten years old. There wer people walking up to the front, in tears, and I was not at all certain what was going on. In all honesty, I'm still not clear what this was about. I was already kind of afraid, seeing these adults crying as they approached the altar. Then, my great aunt turned to me and asked if I ever felt lost.

I had no idea what she meant by this and I knew I didn't have time to figure it out, then. It was obvious to me that the wrong answer to this question was going to lead to me having to walk up that aisle in tears, just as I'd seen these adults do. My grandmother, who was standing on the other side of me put an arm around me and pulled me to her, while she chastised her sister.

I have not thought of that in so many years, but right now I can almost feel that protective arm around me.

I told the Chaplain that this was a long way from my house, and then changed the subject as quickly as I could. I asked if the Unity Church is like the Unitarian Universalist Church - since this is the only church I've attended in recent history.

The answer was no, and then was softened to, “not really.”

There was an awkward pause. Choosing her words carefully, the Chaplain told me that while the Unity Church did follow the teachings of Christ, they did not acknowledge his divinity. I wish I could remember exactly how she said it; what you are reading here is only my interpretation.

It’s interesting to me that I may have, in my wanderings, stumbled onto the only two “churches” that do not consider Christ to be the one and only savior. Of course, I don't really know this, but I can tell you that there are a lot of people in the Baptist church I occasionally attended as a child with one grandmother, and the catholic church I occasionally attended with my other grandmother, who would not be very receptive to this concept.

I had the sense that there was tension among all the women around me as they waited for my response.

I said, “So you think of Christ more as a prophet.”

Someone repeated the word Prophet, and there seemed to be a silent sigh of relief all around me as the Chaplain smiled and nodded.

By seven thirty there were around twenty people outside on the little patio. A woman came out and told us that we were meeting inside, first, and we all filed into the hall and then into a lovely chapel. I can’t tell you what it was, exactly – the bright light coming in, the soft meditation music, the air which seemed to be slightly perfumed with yesterday’s candles or incense – but something made me feel very comfortable.

A man went to the front of the room to join the woman who had called us all inside. I had a strong sense that I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t place where it was. When everyone was seated, he asked that we, one at a time, say our name and then one word of “intention”. I listened as others said their names, but was really focused on the word that followed. I loved what I was hearing – peace, wisdom, stillness, courage, harmony, understanding, strength, and all were said with conviction.

I had a dozen words swirling in my head, from which I would have to choose just one. I felt a renewed need to let go of some things that had been dragging me down all week. Letting-go was really what I wanted to say, but it was two words and – me being me – I had taken the instructions very literally. The word I chose was “Release.”

Next, they explained what was going to happen. We were going to do a group meditation in the room, then they would signal us to go outside about five at a time. Once outside, we would walk the labyrinth, in silent contemplation. While we would all be in the labyrinth at the same time, it would be easier to navigate if we were spaced out a bit.

A labyrinth has only one entrance, which is also the exit. It was suggested that we take a moment to think about our word of intention before stepping inside the labyrinth. We would follow the path, which would lead us eventually into the center, and then take a moment of contemplation before turning around and heading back out. At times there would be people going both ways on the three-foot-wide paths. When we had completed the labyrinth, we were to come back inside for a closing meditation.

It sounded simple enough. I admit, there was a moment when I wondered if this was really going to be worth the forty-minute drive.

It was.

There are some experiences one can hear about and get a pretty good understanding. I am going to do my best to share this with you, but there really was something about physically walking the path that brought home fundamental truths I’ve been trying to solidify in my mind for some time.

The music was turned up just a little.
Words of meditation were spoken in a soft but deliberate tone.
I closed my eyes and put my hands, palms up, on my knees.
I went pretty deep with my meditation, almost forgetting where I was. Sometimes this seems very easy for me, and this was one of those times.
I was a little surprised by a tap on the shoulder. The man said my name, which surprised me as well. He remembered my name. He signaled that I should move outside.
I walked through the door and saw shoes lying here and there and I know I smiled. The idea of feeling the grass under my feet seemed exactly right. I kicked off my sandals and approached the entrance to the labyrinth feeling a connection to the solidness of the ground beneath me.

Release

The energy was really strong as I passed the threshold. I put my foot down inside and then took another step and from that point on each time I placed my foot on the ground it was with intention.

Once or twice, I worried if my pace was all right. I wasn’t gaining on the woman in front of me, but I wondered how close the man behind me was. I admit I stepped outside my meditative state long enough to check on that as I rounded the first bend.

While the initial turns took me towards the center, the path then began to lead back towards the outer edge. I think that is when I had my first feeling of excitement. Suddenly, I understood the connection between the labyrinth and life. There seemed to be a real correlation between the path I was walking on that summer grass and the one I had been traveling since my birth.
Each step I took made this feeling more clear.

I am on my own path.
There are people traveling in the same direction as I am, but we each have to walk the path in our space, at our pace.
I see people who seem to be going the wrong direction, but I know now that in reality they are only a little ways back or further along on the journey.
I could try to step off the path, to push my way onto another lane and continue in another direction – but in reality it would not take me anywhere except where I am meant to go, anyway.
I will be led to the center and then there will be nowhere to go but back out.
We all begin and end in the same place.
We all follow our own path.
We all walk together and alone.
We must make room for others to pass us at times, stepping aside while still continuing on our own journey.
In the end, we will all reach the same destination.

I saw the first person step out of the labyrinth and I thought of my mother, so much nearer the end than I am. I felt such sadness for her, in that moment – not because her journey is closer to over, but because of how narrow and dark her path has been. I realized that she could not have been or done anything different.

This was her life path, these were her lessons to learn, and it wasn’t about me at all.

I’ve had such anger at my mother for the last few weeks - old anger, ancient in terms of our lives here on this Earth. Suddenly I felt a shift, a softening… and it was so overwhelming I actually teared up.

Back and forth, the labyrinth led me. The energy of others was strong and I felt I must have been exuding energy of my own.

The person in front of me slowed down and I realized we were nearing the center. I stopped briefly before turning onto the last lane that led to a small circle. I took three slow steps, and then a fourth brought me right into the middle of the circle.

Release

All around me people were slowly wandering their paths, seemingly in every direction and yet I knew that they were all really on the same path as I was.

The only path
In and then out
Guided, led, brought to where we need to be

While it may seem as if there are infinite ways to wander, the reality felt so clear to me, right then. We are all heading back to the place where we started. On the way, we will sometimes face the center and other times it will be behind us and hard to find. At times we will find that center and if we look up at that moment we will notice that all around us life is going on as it does, as it must, and then we will turn to be a part of it, again.

We will spend our lives moving in and out
Moving away from birth
And towards death
But always
Always
We are being guided on a path that will lead us where we are meant to be
which is right back where we started.

I felt exhilarated as I made the trip back out. While I followed the path towards the edge, towards the center, towards another edge, I knew that no matter where the path led I would eventually be at the starting place, again.

I was heading back home, to a place I knew, with a journey behind me that was carefully planned and marked off so I would not get lost -- and as planned, I found my way out and paused once more before stepping away from the labyrinth.

I found my shoes.
I walked inside the church and took the same seat I’d had before.
The music was soothing and sweet.
I closed my eyes
People filed in behind me, one by one

The woman who had first told us to come inside at the beginning stood up at the front again. She read a meditation that echoed all the thoughts I’d had as I’d walked through the labyrinth. What she said was so close to what I had experienced and thought, that I knew when I wrote this now it would be hard to do so without saying almost exactly what she was saying.
It gave me so much comfort to hear her speak of being guided, of lives that cross ours briefly and people who walk the path with us, of paths that lead where we are meant to go…

I knew as I listened to her that I was not the only one who had been thinking these thoughts. I imagined the Roman soldier, young, afraid, perhaps about to be sent to a country he’d never heard of, entering the labyrinth. I imagined a young Mayan on a vision quest, wandering between the great mounds that had been created in patterns very much like the labyrinth I’d just been in. I felt a sense of awe that somewhere, someone had realized that walking through a labyrinth, from side to side, to the center and back, would evoke these important spiritual concepts in others, and I wondered at all the people who had found these same truths on the paths of an ancient labyrinth.

On my way out of the church, I stopped to chat for just a moment. I said, “It was awesome,” and felt as if that hardly covered it. One woman looked at me with a glow in her eyes that told me she knew what I was feeling. “Yes, it was,” she said emphatically.

I asked if anyone could take a picture of the labyrinth and email it to me. The man who has spoken at the front of the church – the one I am still certain I’ve seen somewhere before – told me he might have a chance to get a picture from the roof on Saturday, and if he could he would send it to me. If I get that picture, I will post it here as soon as it arrives.

On an impulse, I asked the Chaplain, “What time on Sunday?” I realized as I said the words that I really would like to see what it’s like to be part of the service in this very friendly place. There didn't seem to be any coersion, any strong persuasion that things must be done their way, and that made me feel much more comfortable with the idea of listening to what they had to say.

She said, “Nine and eleven – eleven is livelier.”

I said, “I’m likely to be livelier at eleven, as well.”

They thanked me for coming and I thanked them for having me.

I needed this last night. I really needed to find this connection to my higher power, to feel it and know it like this. This morning I have a sense of the path I am following, and I’m so glad my path led me to a labyrinth outside a welcoming church on a warm July night.

****

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Paul at Mindparts has posted the Expressive Arts Carnival

*****

The Flickering of Spirit

The more in tune I beome with my own spirituality, and the more I share that with others, the more people I come across who are willing to share their views and beliefs. Consequently, I have incredible conversations – some in person, some in email - with quite an eclectic group of people. From New-Age to the oldest Religion on the planet - Shamanism, and including those who follow Christian, Hindu, Budhist, and Muslim teachings, and my friend the Rabbi, I hear so many truths - and they are all a piece of the whole.

There are themes that run through every belief system I’ve come across, so far, but it is the ideas that push the edge of my own understanding that call to me most.

This morning, I received an email from a young man who has a lot of interesting, mind opening ideas about faith and spirituality. While he was raised Christian, can quote the bible better than many Christians I know, and still holds Jesus in his heart, his thinking is as far outside the box as my most new-age acquaintances. For someone so young (I think he is in his late twenties), he seems to have done more spiritual growth than many people two or three times his age.

So I will ask you to read his words with an open mind. What he says will not feel right to everyone. Mostly I believe the problem lies in semantics. We don't have the language to describe that which we can't see, hear or feel. It's a little like substituting words we might use for smells to describe color. It just doesn't work.

To me, the essense of his words is very thought-provoking.I would not push any ideas on anyone. I only bring this up here because these kinds of discussions are the most interesting and important ones to me, right now. I would value whatever you have to say - whether you agree or not - and hope to read some comments that can bring out the same kind of explosions in my mind and Mind (The distinction should become clear, soon).

A small part of the email JB sent this morning:

Recently, my 'spiritual' path has led me to a realization that may be a culmination of all that I've learned. It is a sort of truth that I will in no way be able to escape, nor would I want to. So I'm gonna be honest and share it, and although it may seem strange or ridiculous, maybe it could be of benefit to you in some way.

Ok. My search for God, Love, Truth, Soul, etc has led me to this unavoidable realization: My own Mind is my God! And when I say God, I mean the real deal...I don't mean it as a way to devalue God, I see it in such a way that God now is realer and greater to me than I have ever imagined. And it is just that - Whatever I imagine, think or believe about God, it is contained within my Mind, my Mind gives me the power to imagine it, think it and believe it.

I know you're somewhat familiar with meditation and eastern thought, and one of the concepts is that our Minds need to be controlled. Like that [Osho Tarot] card says, 'The Mind is meant to be a Servant'. Well, we cannot even think or state that 'the mind is meant to be a servant' without using the power of the Mind. What we have a problem with is not the Mind, it is often the content of the Mind, certain automatic thoughts we experience, often irritating, worrying, or negative. To me, those thoughts are actually Good, because the Mind, my God, is so graciously showing me something I need to deal with, heal, work with, take care of. If I avoid them, it is neglectful, If I fight them, it is harmful - so essentially, I must treat them with love and respect, because just like those thoughts...I am part of my Mind.

I read this with a little skeptisism, at first. Yes, the concept of worshiping ones own Mind could be seen as blasphimous or even kind of crazy. We are not supposed to see ourselves as God...
Or are we?

Here is part of my reply to him:

The question of mind and Mind...

To me, Spirit (God) is like another dimension that is overlaying what we see and feel in the physical world. God is everything. Everything is God. It’s as if everything we experience in the physical world is the dream while the overlay - the Spiritual dimension - is what's real.

I can sense Spirit [God], but not with my mind... More like Spirit is in, around and through my mind and body. It connects me to everything else. The separateness is the illusion – and it is a necessary illusion.

So when you say your Mind is your God, I feel that it is close, but not exactly it. It isn't the physical brain, chemicals, electric impulses, etc. that are God or "You", it is this overlay of Spirit. I suppose it is not unlike the "third eye" or the sixth chakra. It feels as if "I" am inside my head, but my head, my mind, my body are all just a physical representation of me! It is the invisible connection between my brain-and-body and everything else in the universe that is God.

You say you feel as if your Mind is your God – to me it seems as if we are all God. That's how I see it, anyway.

So - the capital M - Mind vs. the small m - mind = Spirit vs the physical world.

There is a guidance that seems to come from the Mind, but there is also chaos and deception which comes from the mind. How easy it is to fool ourselves! How easy to distract, ignore, deny... and that is not God. The physical mind will lose it's brilliance, and one day it's light will go out completely. It is that overlay of Mind that will shine on... and it is that clarity of Mind that can guide us on a true path while we are here in these physical bodies.

The illusion of this planet, our physicalness, is necessary or it would not exist. We are meant to be here on this planet. There are obviously many lessons still to learn. Becaue we are all part of the same thing, the lessons learned by one faction of the whole will be gained by the entirety of Spirit. We can't all have the gift of understanding God or interpreting the Mind. If everyone had the kind of connection to Spirit you speak of, no one would fully invest in the physical world and learn the lessons we need to learn.

Sometimes I feel that I am completely connected to Spirit, especially recently. Maybe the lessons I still have to learn have more to do with things beyond this physical world? As I am letting go of the burdens of the physical world, and at the same time going through a letting-go process as my children grow up and move on, I am less connected to what is here and more connected to that invisible overlay - more Mind and less mind. More and more often I feel guided, moved by something I can sense almost as strongly as seeing something right in front of me.

Tomorrow, I'm doing a Soul Retrieval. To me, it is about fine-tuning that overlay - the Mind  - and bringing it more together, more inline with the Universe, and more to the surface of my mind.

I've had some fear as the Soul Retrieval gets closer. Part of my fear has been that I am moving closer to releasing the physical world with each step I take. While the Mind may be willing, the mind is also overwhelmed with the worldly need to survive, and so I think that is what the fighting, the fear, has been about.My mind is working very hard to hang on to everything because it runs on a physical kind of instinct - as opposed to the directed and guided Mind.

So… tomorrow is the Soul Retrieval.
I haven’t slept well in several days – between the dog waking me numerous times each night and the chaotic dreams that persist, I am tired. I’ve stopped worrying about the lack of sleep. I am going with “things are as they are meant to be”. Whatever state of mind (or Mind) I am in tomorrow, it will be exactly as it should be.

Last night, in the dreams – in which I am still sometimes on a ship, and am constantly in near total darkness – I saw little pieces of light in the distance. Sometimes the lights were stars. Sometimes it was more like seeing something out of the corner of my eye, and when I turned the light would be gone.

At 2:30, I went outside with the old lab and as I stood on the driveway, waiting for him, I watched the fireflies flickering in the fields. In my half-asleep state, the fairy light of the fireflies seemed a profound reflection of the lights in my dreams. I was thinking, just as Spirit is within us and we are all Spirit, these little flashes of brightness are also a part of the entirety of God. I saw each as a soul piece, a tiny part that was flying free in a field, showing off it’s brightness to anyone or no one and waiting to be reconnected to the whole.

And that’s when I knew I was ready for tomorrow. Sleep or no sleep, dreams or no dreams, tomorrow I am going to search for the flickering lights in my MInd - the Spirit that overlays my mind.

And I know that whatever I find will be exactly what I am meant to find.

Journey to the Safe Place

The room smelled sweet. Soft white noise blocked out the world. Pillows covered the white plush sofa. She pulled a curtain over the door, and another over the window, closing the space off from the outside.

I sat down. We talked for half an hour, her asking, me trying to answer. There were uncomfortable pauses that I felt I should fill.
Mostly, I didn’t.
I knew that if I tried too hard to find something to say, all the words would leave and be replaced with the panicky fog.
I waited to be asked.
I answered as best I could.
It was good enough.

When I dared, I looked at her face.

Calm – no, serene.

There was no rush there, no expectation, no judgment.
It felt right… as it should be… as I’d hoped it would be.

And then she talked about finding a safe place.

I was told I would have to walk down ten flights of steps. This was a little disconcerting. Either I was up ten stories – not something I enjoy – or I was going to descend to an underground cavern. The thought of going deep into the ground made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

I closed my eyes, lulled by soft music.
She spoke.
I had to choose.

I was in a round tower. I told myself it was safe, strong and secure. No one else was there. In front of me was the arch of an open window. I couldn’t see too much, but I knew I was high above the ground. I wasn’t yet certain what was down below. I found myself wanting to approach the window, but I was afraid to, being up so high. It made my hands and feet tingle as heights always do.

It was time to head down the winding staircase. I ignored the numbness in my hands and feet and walked down the first flight of stairs. I rounded a bend and saw an identical arched window. Outside it was bright and the sky was summer blue.

After descending another flight, I found another arched window. I got a little closer. Below I saw green grass with lavender patches spread out in the sunlight.

It's the purple meadow!

I knew the bench was there, but I couldn’t see it yet.

It must be directly below me, near the tower.

Another flight down and then another. From the sixth floor, I was even with the tops of the tallest trees that surrounded the meadow. I remembered being in the meadow - the one in the real world. I remembered how exhilarating it had been the first time I stepped out from the trees and saw the open space surrounded by trees and covered in grass and lavender. Anticipation turned the memory to reality. I hurried down to the next level.
Half way down. No time to stop at the window.

Safe, protected, warm, inviting.

Fourth floor.
Third floor.
I had to see if the bench was there. On the second floor, I paused, hands on the window ledge. Leaning out a little, I could see the bench. My clipboard and pen were there, waiting.

The bench in the purple meadow

(taken during my private retreat last month)

Only one more flight to go. Down the steps, around the bend...

At the bottom, I found an arched doorway where the windows had been. The door was open. A warm breeze wafted in.

Lavender.

I stepped into the light, heat radiating on my face. I walked to the bench and put both palms on the seat, feeling the warmth of the sun on its surface.

The Purple Meadow

(Taken during my private retreat, last month)

Sitting, I looked around at the blooming meadow. Like a waiting friend, a deer took a step toward me, moving halfway out of the woods beyond the meadow.
I smiled at her welcome.

I reached down to run a hand over the tops of the blooming lavender, feeling the caress of their soft petals on my palm. The breeze moved my hair against my face.

So safe and warm, so incredibly comforting...

When I looked up, the deer had come close. Cautiously, I reached a hand out to stroke the side of her face. The instant I touched her, she stared into my soul.
It was intense.
Strength and knowledge, love and wisdom emanated from the moist and dark-brown depths of those eyes.

Leaving my body behind, safely seated on the bench, I stood up and walked with the deer. She led me across the meadow to a pond I hadn’t seen before. Pushing aside the tall grasses and cattails, I stepped to the edge and looked at my reflection in the glass-like water. I was beautiful; ageless, knowing, light, and unafraid.
In my eyes I saw determination.

I don’t have far to look to find myself.
I am here.
I’ve always been here.
I’ll always be here.

“When I count to five…”

It was so unexpected, so sudden.

“One”

I was swept back into my body.

“Two”

The deer watched me from the edge of the forest.

“Three”

I rose from the bench and turned towards the tower, but already it was losing substance, wavering, fading before my eyes.

“Four”

I closed my eyes, locking the vision of the meadow behind my lids. I felt the gaze of the deer on my back and I knew it would always be there.
Watching… guiding…

“Five”

I opened my eyes.
Blink.
Blink.
I was back in the room with the pillows, the sweet scent, the white noise…

Back to the real world.

Or is it?

*****

(Here are two computer drawings I did this afternoon.

I posted these a few hours after putting the rest of the post up.)

Seeing the Pond

Reflection

Meeting the Rainbow Lady

With a son graduating from high school last weekend and a daughter graduating from eighth grade this past Monday, it's been a very busy, emotional week. Somehow or another I made it through all of the inner turmoil I felt as I thought of my children moving up and moving on. We got through the dinners and award nights, the "I can't find my dress shoes" and "Why do I have to iron my shirt if I'm putting that robe over it anyway" and "Can I have fifteen friends over for a bonfire in two hours?"

Mostly, it was fun... but I'm glad to be in the lull before summer really kicks off. In just over a week, we are heading out of town for a family vacation. We are returning to a place which was our Summer destination at least a dozen times when the kids were little. All four of my children will join us for at least part of the two week trip - and my future son-in-law is also going to be with us for a few days.

But first... I'm going to see the Rainbow Lady.

I mentioned a few posts ago that a friend of mine had told me about an experience she had that sounded a lot like Soul Retrieval. Since this is something I've been looking into for some time, I was naturally intrigued. I referred to her as the rainbow lady because my friend mentioned something (of which I am not entirely clear) about finding a rainbow symbol that defined her in some way, during a session with this therapist. My friend also told me that she has seen a regular therapist for years, but has seen "the Rainbow Lady" a few times, as well.

Today, I'm going to meet the Rainbow Lady for an hour. After that, the plan is to return next week for a two-and-a-half-hour session, if all goes well today.

I'm not sure what is going to be included in today's session or the one next week... from what I understand, there is a massage table in her office, there are pillows that are for throwing, hitting and probably comfort as well. There are candles and a there is a teddy bear. I know this from what she and my friend told me, and because there are pictures of her office at her website.
I also know there will be hypnoses involved.

What am I hoping to gain from this?
I'm not really sure.
I'm not going in with any specific expectations.

The original reason I was looking into soul retrieval is because since I've been integrating these compartmentalized thoughts/alters/other sides of me, I have been able to communicate with and understand these very separate pieces. However, most often they do not feel like me. Instead, when I am aware of other sides of me, it is like multiple threads of thought running through my head at the same time. Sometimes this is quite confusing and can cause anxiety if these sides don't agree.

As a fictitious example, imagine you are standing in a grocery store trying to decide what to eat for dinner. In your head are eight different opinions. It is not a reasonable conversation as one might have with any decision. There is not just, not spaghetti, I had it last night, I know I should eat more fish, but I really feel like beef.
Instead, it’s more like this:

BEEF
I can’t eat beef every night!
I should eat more fish.
i hate fish

I’m not hungry

Let's get out of here



All at the same time, followed in the next two seconds by

BEEF
the candy looks good
I’m not eating anything except macaroni and cheese.

I’m not even hungry!

If you get that, I’m not eating it.
Get me out of here!

And so on. Meanwhile, I’m standing still, staring through the glass at the beef and fish on ice while the butcher is waiting for a response.

What I’ve read about Soul Retrieval makes me think it could help further integrate these pieces of me – help bring them all the way home.

Do I expect that the Rainbow Lady is going to be able to do that in two sessions?
No.
I only hope to gain a little more insight into myself, and to try something new.

I’ll let you know how it works out.