Journeys alone, journeys together.
I left my family to set out on a journey of discovery. I did not take their admonitions to stay true to what they knew as faithful and familiar.
I went with the mystics, but they are few and far between.
I went with the lovers, but their attentions are tied to the wind.
I went with the business people, but they were lost to love.
I went with community, but these everywhere were torn asunder.
Along the way I have made many friends, they are freckled across the earth, like the lovers, our hearts are tied by gossamer threads of pure distance.
Today I stand, as if alone. All of these sacred bonds have carried me to this place.
I look to the heavens, wondering what is the nature of this trial of ignorance.
Today has been a long hot day of intense sun. I have baked under it, reddening my face and forehead. The warmth helped to bake away the damp and discomforting dysreflexia. I must forge a path, or perhaps more properly, be forged by it.
Existential uncertainties still linger close, like my breath, and the path is unclear. Unclear, that is except each moment before the next.
I’m enjoying a moment of respite now. Cassandra is here, back from a refreshing weekend of new learning and intimate self-care. I am grateful, she is combing the house with her loving intention, setting right the bits of disarray accumulated after three days of kind strangers minding the space and my body.
It’s like an exhale, within which I both soften and steel for the continuing waves of change.
Already one of our new partners accrued from yesterday has decided instead to look elsewhere. Tomorrow begins the first day with our new care collaborator, Augusto.
I speak of solitude, and yet with the same breath, kindness pours in from others, gentle care, little offerings of attention, healers and wisdom keepers reaching out to share their precious illumination into this corner that has of late felt so dark.
I too carry a light. In a world of anger, greed, and fear, I have found another vision. This I do not carry alone, our numbers uncountable, we look forward towards the end of war, the end of hunger, the end of persecution and depression, the end of away.
While we are legion, not one of us is expendable. I remember this when I look to the heavens, struggling to understand how I seem to have failed in so many ways and even this body as if longing to surrender sweats in anxious distress. I am not expendable. I must break open to the path. For all of those yet to raise their heads to the bright and beautiful sun of illuminating love and compassion, not one of us may lay down the torch.
Yesterday, a 19-year-old girl came to care for me. In my bedroom, she picked up a book, a profound and public teaching on the ancient art and science of dzogchen. “I’ve never read a book,” she said, “I’d like to read this one.” She opened it and started reading.
Later in the day, I learned that she had never heard of Wall Street and had no mental construct even tied to the phrase. I’m starting to really appreciate how many different worlds there are, and the work we have ahead of us to bring them all, in a healthy and respectful way, onto this one little planet of ours.
After some further dialogue, I sent the young woman away with the book, and two others, one to better understand her personal finances, and Autobiography of Yogi to take in the storybook journey of one being through the winds of time.
I don’t know if she will read any of them, it felt good though to pass along some sliver of light to a young and curious soul.
The end of the day, my body still flowing through waves of discomfort. Our beloved Dr. Mike just stopped by, prototyping home visits as a way of shifting his contribution to our collective paradigm. I’m so grateful for friendships like this, Cassandra sitting by, joining the conversation gently on occasion. In that little triad, I could feel the strength and integrity of harmonic, peaceful, yet aspirational love between travelers walking together through this life.
Next, dinner and the first shower in a week, with luck leading to help the evacuation of the bowels after some days of undue rest, and then perhaps even a deep and peaceful sleep throughout the night ahead.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…