Today I took out my sewing kit and stitched the worn pieces of my colorful rug. I was struck with the multi colored threads as I closed the gaps between embroidered pieces just as the women and men who had created this rug in India. They had sewn the collected pieces of clothes that spanned a history and lineage more than I can fathom.
It was in a Gandhi ashram outside of Almora in northern India I last stitched pieces of a rug. Then it was the towering Himalayas that was the view as we took the prayer rugs out and mended them one by one with our hands. There is something about using my hands and stitching pieces to make a whole. In our throw away society, it is rare to find people who still do this type of mending.
I like to gather pieces and mend them, creating something new which is why I also collage. In the creation, there is also the act of connecting, of paying homage, bringing attention to and with. There is a portal that opens and affords a passage if one is willing, patient, allowing of mind to be left behind momentarily. This is one way blessings come through the devastations of life. In the silencing of the mind even in the midst of chaos or uncertainty, the heart peeks and whispers, “Why not? Why not me?” Something opens. A breath, a softening of the belly, a widening of identity, an acceptance of an emotion. Maybe a tear, a laugh, a shudder.
How do we transmute and reframe devastation into a re-organization that honors a new form of life? Numinous is not only an internal vision. One only needs to walk into dawn or dusk to soak in the numinous and liminal. Creation has a quality of effervescence and also a raw starkness that can be scary bone chilling. The invitation is to hold both ends of the spectrum as the whole. This requires surrendering our armor of knowing of what is for what may be other possibilities.
In alchemy, the gold is in the dross while the light is in the shadow. As we seek connections within our isolations and disjointed selves, we surrender into those places of beingness where we never left our wholeness or oneness with creation itself. Sometimes, when we are truly weary, exhausted and the raft of our beliefs no longer can carry us, we sense the unseen world as a dendrite full universe always reaching out for us, connecting, reminding us we are always held in this sacred trust. It is the covenant of livingness. We seek the Grail, but the Grail never left us.
The pine needles sing with the wind right now. Soon the frogs will join the chorus and the owls will spread their wings and begin their hunt. The young rabbit I spotted earlier may very well be their dinner. The tenderness of the leaves of the trailing pepper tree limb arches towards me. In her embrace, I am lulled into remembrance, contentment and ease as a child held in the safe arms of her mother. The stars will shine brightly this cold winter evening as it did last night while the coyotes howled and my soul wandered to the stitching of the filaments of the constellations above. It is dream time except it is real. It is one’s daily life that is more dreamy, disconnected from the multiverse, multidimensional existence we are all a part of.
As a seer, I have been shown collective archetypes. To behold the luminous, I am a bearer and witness to the collective vision that goes beyond the human aspirations. We live in a unified field and when our senses are open, we experience that. The manifestations in our lives are the stitched pieces of the colorful rugs. What is normal? My normal has continuously changed as I go further and further away from the societal bell curve. My bandwidth of experience is wide and deep and allows a spectrum of contrast that hold paradoxes. This is my definition of life. Why would I choose to narrow and choke life? Clouds in the sky are always morphing. That is their nature. We see elephants, tigers or angels in them. Are we dreaming?
Before the word, there was the image. I lovingly spiced this essay of letters to awaken your senses. They touch another part of ourselves – before the alphabet when impressions impregnate our beings like thumbprints, each unique in its message. For example, as the shadow on the western slope of that ridge I see clearly now demarcating a high and low in the contours of that mountain – a shadow and light perspective available only at this moment. And so it is as we expand in our energetic selves, it provides a contrast to our habitual holdings. We may, if in fear, contract more to bound ourselves to a perceived safety. Sometimes we say we want freedom, but then we run the opposite when the taste of bigness isn’t fitting into our ideas of it. We all have so many beliefs, many inflexible.
This is the arena I swim in, both in my personal journey as well as my professional role as a healer. The nuance of perception and its multiplicity in arranging the meanings in life are immense. In my mentoring, I continually invite the other to step in to this newness in them. It is a training, a cultivation, not a pill or an instantaneous magical taking away of what has ailed his/her soul for a lifetime, if not longer. In shedding one’s skin, it is not always pretty. It is messy, vulnerable. And if there is shame, then there is a double fight internally of hiding even more one’s vulnerability further cementing the very pattern that rusted the mechanism of tender humanity to begin with. We hide, and believe in the admonitions of the other that we are less than if we don’t _____________ (you fill in the blank with your personal demons in here). Welcome to the club! This is what separation is called.
What is being birthed in each of us? How do we create the nests for our eggs of becoming? The shells are both strong and vulnerable. They need tending until the new life emerges from its cracks. So in the meantime, we inspire and illuminate each other in this journey that each of us will come out more powerful to nourish the circle of life. This is the preciousness of tending. We are the legacy we envision.
I invite you back into recognizing the unity of which we are never separated from. Stay in your heart. Keep it soft. Sometimes spiritual people are too heady. I miss the lubrication of the soft tender heart that allows both the devastation and the blessing to be present together. Let us all be kind. Remember we take turns in giving and receiving kindness.
Love and light,