Echoing the Call

Sit or write. This is the inner debate that comes after acknowledging that I am tired of living. Not living life itself, rather the way that I have. I know this is an undoing, a time of great healing and rest and I am also tired of this enigma of the mind. My mind was hopping from one thing to the next, trying to make sense of how I arrived here. Why I became tired. My mind was scanning through the catalogs of reasoning that I have stored up.  It wanted to turn to outside sources. No, I told myself to sit. Sit on your cushion and close your eyes. Turn inwards. So I did.  I sat and did not have the energy to lift my hand to close a nostril for alternate nostril breathing, a cleansing breath I use when I feel dense. I did not do the breath technique. I sat. Sit, said a faint voice within. Sit. Do nothing, sit. Allow the breath to breathe you.

Then the words wanted to be written, to share this out.  Written, typed, these inner workings of the mind wanted to be written out in the moment - as it is unfolding in real time.  One moment fine, content, grateful, heart wide open expansive then next dark, tired, weighted, the cloak covers and I am despondent. I know this well. These swings, episodes, fluctuations, events, moments, slips, falls….they have been occurring for a long while, it is only recently that they come and go with a more rapid speed. They come in quick and they also leave, no longer sitting and lingering around.

Community. Community.  This is what is here. Community. I am a part of a community; it is that my community, my support group is all over the world, in many locations and I am here. I am grateful for my sangha who see me, hold me, encourage me, bolster me and there is this desire to be a part, a part of a larger community. Which, as I type, I know I am a part of. It is simply that they are not here and the community is not the kind that gathers in person regularly. Rather we are spread out, sharing our love and light and doing this work as conscious leaders and teachers. We connect in other ways and today, I am finding that I am tired of feeling like I am going at this alone. And what I am noticing is that I am seeking and wanting closer connection to this sangha in a physical way.

As I sat at the table, eating breakfast, alone, I watched the snowflakes fall. It is a beautiful moment to be a part of, a voice inside shares. And there was also this piece where I want to share it. It can be, rather it is, a both and for I love alone time. I am headed into some alone time this weekend. Me. My Self and I. Quiet. No one else around. No one else to navigate, to interact with. And this, I realize is why I am tired. Because I continue to allow myself to get pulled, allured or sometimes yanked into that which is not mine.  UGH. Capricorn I thought, Makara, the crocodile. The image of the clock in the crocodile’s belly in Peter Pan continues to arise. The Moon. My moon placed in Capricorn, the moving towards the darkest and shortest day of the year. Ah, yes. The solstice. The eve of the dawn of the days growing longer with more light. This is upon us….

As I sat, tears began to flow. This is what is feels like to die, to be dying. To consciously be aware that old parts of me are falling away, their grip is loosening as my identity is fading and there is nothing left for them to hold on to. Ah yes, this is what it feels like to be dying. This dance of Shiva, of Nataraj dancing in the fire burning all of the old patterns, domesticated ways of being, conditioned ways to think, react, be transforming by the catalyst of fire. Fire.

And while I am crying, a cardinal flies and perches on the window sill. A cardinal, sometimes known as the daughter of the sun…. a wave passes through me and become full of gratitude, this gift that comes out of the ether, flies directly toward me for me to see I am not alone. I can do this, move through this like I have all of the other phases, moments. This too shall pass. Although it not only sees, it gazes at me. Its eye looking at me. We were together, acknowledging one another’s presence, company. My call was answered. I am not alone.

Cardinal, according to my Divine Feather Messenger Deck by Alison De Nicola and whose delicate artwork is by David Scheirer, “has long been associated with important and essential qualities, such as the ‘cardinal directions’ in the Native American medicine wheel.”

Directions. Medicine Wheel.

They continue,

“Examine the opportunities in your life where a path to leadership many be opening up for you. Moving forward requires self-awareness and confidence in your unique qualities and gifts. Feel assured of your importance on this journey. Cardinal is calling you to see yourself in a new light. Use that light to move forward while you lead others to do the same. Cardinal bestows a special message of self-worth. Choose to claim this as a right and a truth.”

Choose to claim this as a right and a truth.  Moving forward requires self- awarenss and confidence in your unique qualities and gifts.

This is at the core of who I am. This undoing that is a happening, is stripping me bare of the stories I have told myself, that have been told or shown to me by the actions of others, that I am not worthy, not special and that I do not deserve to access the joys of life. I was taught not to be seen or heard, to not speak, share, point out, make myself known or draw any attention to myself.  And this undoing is painful. It is painful to peel away these layers that have dried on and stuck to me. It is also healing and soothing, needed and necessary. That was the message that was lingering from the restful state, it has been a continuous message- one of healing and resting. Restorative.

This comes on the morning after I bathed myself, literally and figuratively- in the water with salts and in an auditory wash while listening to David Whyte read his poem The Truelove. It arrived in my inbox via The Marginalian.

These are the two excerpts that resonated with me:

There is a faith in loving fiercely
the one who is rightfully yours,
especially if you have
waited years and especially
if part of you never believed
you could deserve this
loved and beckoning hand
held out to you this way.

…..

we finally step out of the boat
toward them, we find
everything holds
us, and everything confirms
our courage, and if you wanted
to drown you could,
but you don’t
because finally
after all this struggle
and all these years
you simply don’t want to
any more
you’ve simply had enough
of drowning
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.

I recalled the first time I heard David Whyte, he was reading his poems and the sound of his voice was coming through the speakers of a truck I was in while driving in the Paradise Valley five years ago with a woman who, at the time was my teacher and who has since become a mentor, confident and beloved friend. We were on our way to Jardine to a women’s gathering, one that she had suggested I accompany her to while we walked along the Snake River on a late fall, early winter day. It was grey and my inner state mirrored the surrounding environment. The leaves had fallen from the trees, snow blanketed the earth- it was quiet. The sound of our voices, when we spoke, joined the river as she flowed and the crunch of our boots on the path. 

Here, now, five years later his words meet me again.

This time echoing the calling, the longing for my own love for myself.

-S