My one-year process of bringing awareness and focus to the life I live has begun. There is a small group of us doing this, scattered around the globe, and we were asked to do something to mark the beginning of our journey together. I felt moved to take a walk alone in what is effectively my back yard. This is its story...
I climb the mountain, higher and higher. The warm wind strokes my back while my shirt hangs from my pants which, like a tail, complements the grey tuft fashioned to my chin. Emerging from a ravine, the path splits me: my body one way, my attention another. I stop and consider the momentary fear of a unfamiliar route beckoning. I embrace my fear and follow my desire up what is part path, part stream.
Rounding a point I feel embraced and welcomed by the elements. Stepping to the edge of a cliff ledge I briefly test with my foot the large bolder in front, that appears to have little supporting it, before leading forward into the view. The wind, stronger than before, pushes hard a sudden gust. It's brief but sharp enough for me to loose my balance. To quick to control. A slight mistake. Life extinguished with no thought or care. I watch my body fall helplessly out over the edge, swallowed by the vast space dropping down. It's unclear where my body will land but it is sure to bounce many times before it's animation ends. The bolder, meanwhile, is solid and holds tight.
I climb higher, enrapt by thick layers of beautiful plants that surround me: extravagant yellows and blankets of purple. Following my intuition, being guided by feelings and (shortly) the infrequent call of little sun birds, I wonder at the necessity to be still climbing. A flat, slow and easy walk would be wonderful yet I climb and climb. Memory, from a few days back, reminds me I asked for this in my intention: to be at the highest point surrounded by land, ocean, air and the warm sun.
The sun is warm and soon I am indeed surrounded. My feeling though is disappointment. It is not the highest point - I see only one ocean. The feeling is soon pushed aside as I explore to find a place to perch. Yet there is no settling. I move faster and faster, leaping from rock to rock like an ant that's lost its magnetic trail. Soon I catch my first glimpse of my guide, the sun bird, as it darts off towards the afternoon sun. I'm off again.
Deeper into the mountain I go. An image appears in my mind of water trickling over large slabs of rock. An interesting looking plant draws me from the path. When I reach it I'm surrounded by the scent of licorice. At my feet is a light, fluted stick I claim with my right hand. My guide calls and I cross over toward it to meet the sound of trickling water, see it glinting in the sun as it wets the rocky, moss-covered plates.
Now in a grassland, the path leads towards and through a misplaced formation of sculptured rocks. No doubt it's a portal. Through it, without fanfare, I've entered the spirit world. I notice the stick now lies firmly in the grasp of my left hand. I know I will not return this way and wonder how I exit this other-land.
I am thirsty and am lead to a stream. Drinking from it I feel light-headed and the landscape shifts uneasily. The path has vanished and I am slightly afraid as I march further and further from where I've come, my pace quickening. Before long I'm on a road and my direction has changed to the south.
Soon I see a path branching west and up. It does not excite me! My resistance to it drags me into the ground. I feel though, without doubt, it is the direction to go and so drudgingly follow it, climbing again. A White Necked Raven glides high above, across my path towards the north. Its cry sounds like something vibrating softly, gently calling my attention. A second Raven follows. It becomes suspended in one spot, it's dark imprint against the intense blue sky is like a kite and I am the kite flyer. Clockwise, it circles me, although hardly appearing to pay me any specific concern.
The path splits. I am tired, yet guidance is instant. With no hesitation I flow this way and that. The path splits yet there is only one option. Soon I stand in the mouth of a large cave guarded by a cleverly disguised dragon. A stream gently slides through it into the darkness beyond. I am in awe and pause respectfully, breathing it in.
Exiting this mysterious place I'm on another jeep track. I feel a sense of transition and the beginning of my return home as I glide east. That is before I notice my left hand - it's still clutching the stick. Still in. Another junction, and a map. I have options and I choose. Soon I'm climbing again. Before long my tail drops and I catch it, as it falls, with my left hand. Ah, out.
But still climbing. Remembering my intuition remains valid in this realm I wonder where it leads me; feeling a wary sense of trust I keep wishing for an exit point. But every bend and curve takes me closer to the sky. My legs are shaky and I'm making mistakes. Does this end? Climbing, climbing, climbing. Mostly I'm in the peak's shadow but then there's light and with relief, passing the entrance of another cave, I find myself at the top. Not just the top but the highest point of the surrounding area. Two oceans! Rotating slowly I take it all in.
The trip out is just one way down a deep gorge. Mostly I run, leaping daringly from rock to rock, pausing only to drink in the sounds of the ancient, magical forest I'm passing through. Nearing the exit point there are marks freshly carved into the soft soil: a heart within a heart, a sun and a spiral. Then, on each of the final steps down, there is placed in the middle a just-picked, pink flower looking like a thousand pink stars bursting from it's center.
My journey has again begun.
Comments
| < Previous | Next > |
|---|
