Author note: the moon names I refer to are typically from the Farmer's almanac, which slants towards a north eastern view of Indian and early settler life. This moon name, The Bony Moon, is Cherokee and is in many ways an accurate depiction of my current spirituality. The name is a reflection of starvation; the native people's utter desperation for sustenance requiring ingestion of boiled bones...bone marrow soup. A hard diet, but life sustaining.
You have come to Sedona like a neighbor trying to steal a Wifi signal from next door. Try the stairs? Signal too weak. Try the upstairs office? Close. Try the empty closet in your daughter's room? So close...so close...
You have a notion that the Universe will speak to you and guide you if you can get a signal. You expect this like a petulant child and grow ever anxious by the day. Where is the sign? Where is the path?
You seek the Universe's sign on. Choose a network. Where is it? It isn't listed...so fly to Sedona. The Universe hub. The modem. All will be solved. Watch your inbox. Check your mail at gmail or aol or yahoo or one of your so many pseudonyms. Dear Universe, Instructions, please. ASAP. When silence is the answer, assume it is the connection.
But once a signal thief, always a thief...Seek the universe at one of the many drive-by locations. Bell formation, Cathedral rock, or the Chapel. Before you know it, you've walked smack into a Buddhist prayer service at the Amitabha Stupa in Sedona. You understand it is some kind of service but you assume you belong. So you sit and quietly meditate. Please, oh, please, Universe, tell me what to do!
The folks around you are chanting to a drum. It is beautiful and moving and you feel lucky to have come at this moment. But more people arrive and block your stealthy egress. Panic sets in. How long will this service last? And you begin to know you don't belong. Yet, when something like Communion occurs, the Monk offers you their blessings in the form of what appears to be water and cake. You politely decline, feeling out of pace, feeling shame because it finally occurs to you that no one gets free answers. Something offered free loses it's value. And you know that you will restart your spiritual practice with the meatless bones that you lazily discarded. You will make soup. You are good at soup. The broth will sustain you until you find your own answers.
And you acknowledge the truth that you purposefully ignored...there is no Intuitive Super Oneness. It requires work; and fortunately, you are no stranger to it.
And if the Universe feels like sending you a sign, you will welcome it.
3 comments:
I absolutely love this writing! I can so relate to it! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you so much Kate!
Wow. Being there with you and more importantly, being on this journey with you side by side, this writing wraps up so many emotions. It is truly beautiful. And yes, you are so good at soup. Treat this next step as the nourishing soup that you create with such love. Add the right amount of intention and spirit, mixed with diligence and you are sure to be taking a great step forward. Wonderful!
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