Navigating the Sacred and Mundane

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Finding Water

Running through days. Days into weeks and weeks into months, I am spinning so fast that I am now held in great stillness. A top in perfect motion, after the wobbling momentous push and before the teetering slowdown, I balance.

I miss writing.

The back story is that we are filing for bankruptcy and losing another property, our final one, our home. And losing possessions, many of which are the last and only things my mother left me. For twenty years I've stored and moved beautiful heirlooms and never imagined this would be their end. But truthfully, I am not a woman who lived in the same house for thirty years. I have moved sixty times in my adult life, nomadic at heart.

Dreams and ideas, longings never manifested, all this is going, too.

These days I'm really no good for conversation with other moms in the preschool pickup line. I'm staying clear of most gatherings and opportunities for small talk.

Yesterday, I spontaneously wept in the produce aisle. I'm not even sad anymore, not raw or plagued. I'm past that place. I don't have a lengthy prayer list. Really, I have few words at all. I did curse Martha Stewart with the woman working in produce, though. We had quite a belly laugh about that.

I've been getting up to watch the sunrise, and feel greatly comforted by the emergence of color - red from behind the dark sky. I've been moved to watch my daughter's face upon waking, how spirit illumines the body.

I find myself closing eyes in the in-between moments of busyness, and find a meadow, silent and serene, some sort of natural divinity.

I see all the effort I expend to 'create a life' and watch how it all comes falling down when I live like that. I try to recreate what was given to me in childhood, even though it didn't really work then, instead of residing in what was given to me in the years of spiritual seeking.

We are always given a chance to accept our soul's right path. I wonder now, outside of the addiction of ideals, how long I will refuse that opportunity? Feels like, after a long dry spell, I am finding my way to water. All the money and stuff, the big houses and way of being a family.....was exhausting. I haven't slept much in the last four years. I'm beginning to sleep again.

Loss is a great teacher. It opens up to a simple love.

Let go, let be, listen inside.

Happy Thanksgiving. May we all embrace the love around and within us,
and may we accept blessings for the journey.

photo by J. Uelsmann