Today it rains
It's been a beautiful summer.
The last breaths whisper.
My house, this summer, has held us well.
Why am I writing about the house?
Because the beat of old peeling trim paint being scraped is present, or a new roof may be needed, or that the pipes have been cleaned this summer which means the drains no longer clog? Or that perhaps, I am thinking about an energy audit...
Honestly, I don't know.
This summer has been the summer of the house, my house, and all she has held.
Ana my eldest and Serena my youngest have both been home.
For Ana the house has held her in love. And Adam and Ana have spooned here, partied here, fished here, kayaked here, danced here, and even worked here.
Serena has returned from Argentina. And she has had 'circle party fires' here, friends from 'away' here, the first 'my mother is away party here'...cooked here, and even her birthday bash here!
My house is officially bi-lingual. Spanish is spoken here now almost as much as English. Ana worked for Americore from here with the Latino population. (the kitchen table became her sometime office). Serena 'i-ams' and 'chats' with friends in Spanish more than English.
The land where the house sits holds two gardens, crows, and wood-peckers. So many tomatoes grow in the gardens, and when you walk in today, the smells of homemade tomato sauce greet you. I have cooked a lot here this summer. My new favorite dish is 'summer squash in EVERYTHING'!
And for me the house has held feeders that have allowed me to watch hummingbirds sip each morning. I usually hear them before I see them. The sound upon waking; a muffled brigade of helicopters. My sleep fogged eyes observe them from bed. Yes I am lucky enough to live in a place where my summer alarm clock is the sound of humming birds wings beating.
The house has brought me sweet encounters this summer.
Old friends have weeded in the garden and tamed tomatoes with me. I have painted here and healed here.
A wedding (not my own) was celebrated here. We danced and partied!
This house has heart... angels are birthed here, tears are honored here, love is found here, friends congregate here, people work here, nature abounds here, prayers are held here, even conflicts are resolved here, and many find comfort here.
My house is more than a roof, she holds us well.
When you visit you will know the love of this house...
Monday, August 23, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Angel Cycles..
Oh so much to write about.
The day is glorious. The wind and temperture just right. Feeling stable on my 20 mile loop and this is good! It's wonderful moving toward fitness again.
For the record I love Hurican Road in Falmouth Maine. I find the mix of hills to open vistas breath taking... and the road is placed just right, with in the mix of riding that has gone before. I think I will be adding another road that will take me deeper into Falmouth. However, Hurrican Rd. will remain on my route. My private goal is to establish a base of 30 miles at least 4 times a week. I can do this time wise, if I'm on the road by 5:30 a.m.
I don't have my personal fueling down yet. I don't do well on just sugars. Fruit or otherwise...protein and fat have to be in the mix.
And this is not what I really want to talk about.
I love to ride my bike.
Is this silly?
I love being on road in the stillness of morning, being with my breath and all the morning sounds, colors, and smells
... then there is the shadow..
Sometimes I forget where I am, and anxiety rises up.
I'm distracted,
pulled away by so many thoughts. My focus...lost.
FINALLY I HEAR: Yield to the Present!
And, thankfully, attention shifts. My senses now in command.
Heart and mind are pulled back into the viseral. Is my heart beating too hard?
How is the air caressing my skin this morning? Am I over or under dressed?
The cadence of my peddle stroke, can I even it out?
The smell of French Lilacs and Balsam and Pine.
Fresh laid manure on fields.
The light dancing off dewed grasses.
Oh, and look horses! and..
(Did you know we have a place to board cats in Falmouth Maine!)
Yes I pull myself away from self indulgence into
Fueled freedom of being on a bike,
Alberto said to me during a special walk we took through the desert in New Mexico:
Eva your bike is your Power Animal...
My Bike is my magician. My bike is a Merlin!
The rhythm of wheels grazing pavement charms me.
And my ears are hyper-tuned.
I know by the sound of my bike when something is not right!
Sound alerts me:
as I watch out for pot holes and
listen for cars that come too close
Cycling allows me to begin my day with magic and motion.
So simple.
The day is glorious. The wind and temperture just right. Feeling stable on my 20 mile loop and this is good! It's wonderful moving toward fitness again.
For the record I love Hurican Road in Falmouth Maine. I find the mix of hills to open vistas breath taking... and the road is placed just right, with in the mix of riding that has gone before. I think I will be adding another road that will take me deeper into Falmouth. However, Hurrican Rd. will remain on my route. My private goal is to establish a base of 30 miles at least 4 times a week. I can do this time wise, if I'm on the road by 5:30 a.m.
I don't have my personal fueling down yet. I don't do well on just sugars. Fruit or otherwise...protein and fat have to be in the mix.
And this is not what I really want to talk about.
I love to ride my bike.
Is this silly?
I love being on road in the stillness of morning, being with my breath and all the morning sounds, colors, and smells
... then there is the shadow..
Sometimes I forget where I am, and anxiety rises up.
I'm distracted,
pulled away by so many thoughts. My focus...lost.
FINALLY I HEAR: Yield to the Present!
And, thankfully, attention shifts. My senses now in command.
Heart and mind are pulled back into the viseral. Is my heart beating too hard?
How is the air caressing my skin this morning? Am I over or under dressed?
The cadence of my peddle stroke, can I even it out?
The smell of French Lilacs and Balsam and Pine.
Fresh laid manure on fields.
The light dancing off dewed grasses.
Oh, and look horses! and..
(Did you know we have a place to board cats in Falmouth Maine!)
Yes I pull myself away from self indulgence into
Fueled freedom of being on a bike,
Alberto said to me during a special walk we took through the desert in New Mexico:
Eva your bike is your Power Animal...
My Bike is my magician. My bike is a Merlin!
The rhythm of wheels grazing pavement charms me.
And my ears are hyper-tuned.
I know by the sound of my bike when something is not right!
Sound alerts me:
as I watch out for pot holes and
listen for cars that come too close
Cycling allows me to begin my day with magic and motion.
So simple.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Angel daughter
Yesterday my daughter arrived.
Full of zest fun and warmth.
The kid is gorgeous.
Where did she come from this tall, dark skinned beauty.
An old friend is with her. I pick them both up at the bus station.
We come home and cook dinner together. I am glad to have them here and to listen to there stories and watch them cuddle like puppies. They whisper and talk in short hand, the language of two.
He has lived in Kenya for the past three years with a women from Chicago, who moved there with him. They live in a remote village that takes many hours of travel by bus and ferry to reach. He fishes and works very hard providing food and shelter for himself and his partner, and for three children who live with them who have been orphaned by aids. He provides funds for schooling these children as well. He speaks of the many hours he works. He has built his own house, survived a poisonous snake bite sweating in the sun, and is building a center around aids education and awareness. Many boys come to Adam's house after school. They feel safe and welcome. Adam is 23 years old.
Ana loves Adam. They have been friends and grown together for so many years.
We talk of the sadness in Adam's eyes and our concern for him.
His eyes are milky. Looks like soul loss to me. I wonder about his heart.
Ana talks about loving him enough in the two months they are together in Maine, so he can remember his love. She says Mom, "Adam is a lover. This is what he does best. This is who he is. The women he lives with in Africa is wounded and does not love him well."
My daughter has learned to love to love. She does not love to possess or require undo commitment. I can learn from her. She is fearless in this regard.
She is 22 and alive.
Full of zest fun and warmth.
The kid is gorgeous.
Where did she come from this tall, dark skinned beauty.
An old friend is with her. I pick them both up at the bus station.
We come home and cook dinner together. I am glad to have them here and to listen to there stories and watch them cuddle like puppies. They whisper and talk in short hand, the language of two.
He has lived in Kenya for the past three years with a women from Chicago, who moved there with him. They live in a remote village that takes many hours of travel by bus and ferry to reach. He fishes and works very hard providing food and shelter for himself and his partner, and for three children who live with them who have been orphaned by aids. He provides funds for schooling these children as well. He speaks of the many hours he works. He has built his own house, survived a poisonous snake bite sweating in the sun, and is building a center around aids education and awareness. Many boys come to Adam's house after school. They feel safe and welcome. Adam is 23 years old.
Ana loves Adam. They have been friends and grown together for so many years.
We talk of the sadness in Adam's eyes and our concern for him.
His eyes are milky. Looks like soul loss to me. I wonder about his heart.
Ana talks about loving him enough in the two months they are together in Maine, so he can remember his love. She says Mom, "Adam is a lover. This is what he does best. This is who he is. The women he lives with in Africa is wounded and does not love him well."
My daughter has learned to love to love. She does not love to possess or require undo commitment. I can learn from her. She is fearless in this regard.
She is 22 and alive.
Moon Mirror/ Angel reflection:
Have you ever noticed how water can magnify emotions?
The Moon pulls our waters.
In the time of this May full Moon, I am pulled into her face.
Not all full moons are alike.
This Maine Spring has been extraordinarily beautiful.
I have been outside more sooner. I think this is contributing to my heightened physical and emotional awareness. I can feel the moon pulling my waters. I am also in the midst of a daily spiritual practice centered on prayer and the coming and going of the tides. I live on a tidal cove. The cove is in cahoots with the moon, transmitting moonlight everywhere.
Last night I had entire leg cramps. Yes I had cycled 21 miles yesterday, and then sat the rest of the day in council with others. The cramps were like none I had experienced before. I was hydrated. I think my legs are being asked to carry me further on many fronts, and they are expanding and contracting with their new job description.
In Peruvian Shamanism we are taught to build relationships of power.
We are asked to develop engagements of substance, which are transpersonal.
With prayerful permission storehouses of earths’ collective repositories are approached. i.e. rivers, mountains, wind, rain, lightening. Each element holds information. We sit and wait for lessons to emerge. The energy of the lessons is than woven into our luminous fields allowing access to navigate within the personal differently.
This May moon I am dancing is reflecting me.
I am a bit off balance. In yoga today, poses associated with balance were difficult. I notice I am still sourcing from old relationships stored within myself. In essence I am still cultivating old gardens. Those who loved me planted many seeds. I notice I have adopted some of this old growth as my own. This is OK as long as I understand I do not have to harvest the fruits and flowers in the same way. I have choice! For instance when I am feeling jealous, I don’t have to feed the lack of worth, there hidden underneath the jealousy or allow jealousy to freeze me in my tracks. In this moon’s light I fertilize the gaining strength and wisdom of my becoming, by welcoming all reflections!
I am growing older, and my body is changing. My mirrored face reflects back to me with lined features and different skin. Two blue eyes of a blooming crone appear, and peak back at me.
I find irony here; I am now called to embrace the beloved. Isn’t this folly and play for youth? I hid from possible ecstasy. My maiden self could have called lovers in with ease. I had no idea how to play the games or hold my self in relationship without loosing my essence. I knew passion with lovers that chose me, yet the ecstasy of deep sexual union through spiritual beauty eluded me. Perhaps I wasn’t ready. Now at a budding crone’s age, I explore the archetype of lover. I am the Dragon in Chinese astrology. Dragons ripen in their latter years.
Today I breathe fire!
Sometimes I am saddened by my once upon a time remembered careful choices. I now embrace the twinkle of risk and strength and brutal truth aging brings.
I delight in every healthy minute. The hormonal driven drama lessens and the stance of stubborn riotousness has become boring. I call clarity and vulnerability and grace as my companions. I explore the edges of my changing physicality; pushing and encouraging myself not to stiffen, to instead stretch and release.
I soften and I deepen.
Every day a gift.
My mortality becomes more present.
I dance the path of the beloved.
I soften into my center. I am present.
I am pulled in and spit out by the moon.
And stand reflected and remembered by her light.
Have you ever noticed how water can magnify emotions?
The Moon pulls our waters.
In the time of this May full Moon, I am pulled into her face.
Not all full moons are alike.
This Maine Spring has been extraordinarily beautiful.
I have been outside more sooner. I think this is contributing to my heightened physical and emotional awareness. I can feel the moon pulling my waters. I am also in the midst of a daily spiritual practice centered on prayer and the coming and going of the tides. I live on a tidal cove. The cove is in cahoots with the moon, transmitting moonlight everywhere.
Last night I had entire leg cramps. Yes I had cycled 21 miles yesterday, and then sat the rest of the day in council with others. The cramps were like none I had experienced before. I was hydrated. I think my legs are being asked to carry me further on many fronts, and they are expanding and contracting with their new job description.
In Peruvian Shamanism we are taught to build relationships of power.
We are asked to develop engagements of substance, which are transpersonal.
With prayerful permission storehouses of earths’ collective repositories are approached. i.e. rivers, mountains, wind, rain, lightening. Each element holds information. We sit and wait for lessons to emerge. The energy of the lessons is than woven into our luminous fields allowing access to navigate within the personal differently.
This May moon I am dancing is reflecting me.
I am a bit off balance. In yoga today, poses associated with balance were difficult. I notice I am still sourcing from old relationships stored within myself. In essence I am still cultivating old gardens. Those who loved me planted many seeds. I notice I have adopted some of this old growth as my own. This is OK as long as I understand I do not have to harvest the fruits and flowers in the same way. I have choice! For instance when I am feeling jealous, I don’t have to feed the lack of worth, there hidden underneath the jealousy or allow jealousy to freeze me in my tracks. In this moon’s light I fertilize the gaining strength and wisdom of my becoming, by welcoming all reflections!
I am growing older, and my body is changing. My mirrored face reflects back to me with lined features and different skin. Two blue eyes of a blooming crone appear, and peak back at me.
I find irony here; I am now called to embrace the beloved. Isn’t this folly and play for youth? I hid from possible ecstasy. My maiden self could have called lovers in with ease. I had no idea how to play the games or hold my self in relationship without loosing my essence. I knew passion with lovers that chose me, yet the ecstasy of deep sexual union through spiritual beauty eluded me. Perhaps I wasn’t ready. Now at a budding crone’s age, I explore the archetype of lover. I am the Dragon in Chinese astrology. Dragons ripen in their latter years.
Today I breathe fire!
Sometimes I am saddened by my once upon a time remembered careful choices. I now embrace the twinkle of risk and strength and brutal truth aging brings.
I delight in every healthy minute. The hormonal driven drama lessens and the stance of stubborn riotousness has become boring. I call clarity and vulnerability and grace as my companions. I explore the edges of my changing physicality; pushing and encouraging myself not to stiffen, to instead stretch and release.
I soften and I deepen.
Every day a gift.
My mortality becomes more present.
I dance the path of the beloved.
I soften into my center. I am present.
I am pulled in and spit out by the moon.
And stand reflected and remembered by her light.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Angeling Again
The Tree Grid has been patiently waiting for me.
I fell off the painting wagon for a few weeks.
I was distracted:
Distracted by the sun.
Distracted by the garden.
Distracted by physical pleasures: loving, biking, hiking, yoga.
(hey that's what spring is about)
Distracted by house guests.
Today I jump feet first into the fire of creation once again.
I have begun to equate making art with being lonely.
In this life time, I have spent hours and hours in the studio alone.
(This is what we artists do!)
I guess, Spring called my heart.
I was bit by the tumble me in the hay Spring Bug and
Got the fever..
No repelant for this one, (who would want one!)
Now the garden is in.
The Love Bite is healing.
House Guests have left.
Daughters will arrive.
More house guests are coming.
My house soon will be hopping!
And I will complain I don't have enough space or time to do my work..
A fine line between lonely and alone.
and justifying working or not...
I fell off the painting wagon for a few weeks.
I was distracted:
Distracted by the sun.
Distracted by the garden.
Distracted by physical pleasures: loving, biking, hiking, yoga.
(hey that's what spring is about)
Distracted by house guests.
Today I jump feet first into the fire of creation once again.
I have begun to equate making art with being lonely.
In this life time, I have spent hours and hours in the studio alone.
(This is what we artists do!)
I guess, Spring called my heart.
I was bit by the tumble me in the hay Spring Bug and
Got the fever..
No repelant for this one, (who would want one!)
Now the garden is in.
The Love Bite is healing.
House Guests have left.
Daughters will arrive.
More house guests are coming.
My house soon will be hopping!
And I will complain I don't have enough space or time to do my work..
A fine line between lonely and alone.
and justifying working or not...
Monday, May 24, 2010
Angel Grief (again)
I met with the Center for Grieving Children today. Paul Golding and Susan Giambalvo are lovely caring folks. The Centers mission is simple: to provide loving support to grieving children, teens, families and the community through peer support, outreach, and education.
The Angels may be hosted by the center as a fund raising event. My dream to weave art into community and having these angels help fuel good causes throughout Maine and perhaps the world is beginning to come to fruition.
When I toured the center I almost burst into tears. I was touched by the work many people are doing to help others as they traverse the terrain of loss. I was touched by the possibility of working with this caring organization. Weaving the gifts I carry has been a dream. Allowing my art and energy work to blend together in service of community, has been a goal of mine. The grief I still carry in my own heart was also touched. I never look at what is being given as an accident. I wonder what children inside myself may still be grieving…
I have written before about grief. Grief has many faces and has it’s own time. After grief has run it’s course, it does not mean we go back to being who we were before the a loss. We do put ourselves back together and we are different. I find on my journey with grief, I don’t replace the loss, more it becomes part of the fabric I become as a new reorganized whole.
I have lost time by holding back grief. I sometimes grieve this lost time. I have lost those I loved. Through divorce, I have lost the dream of a relationship with my children’s father into the next stages of life. I have lost pets. I have lost my father. I have lost relatives. Early on I lost friends who died of aids in there 20’s. I have lost myself in relationships. I have lost my children who are now almost grown. I find myself today in a fertile place of regrouping. There are no short cuts. It is a journey. It is a remembering. It is a re-weaving. It is organizing into a new story. Not always straight.
Still, in times when I am in the midst of experiencing sadness and loss, I find I am not ‘broken’. Overwhelmed, yet not broken. I am feeling all of it:
Hurt, loss, regret, hopelessness, loneliness, anger, and frustration. Some how I know I will make it through. I guess age has something to do with this knowledge. The experience of being with loss, does not necessarily ease the pain, but is helpful. I have howled with hurt, like a wolf crying for a slain mate. I know the depth of that pain.
My trip to the Center has inspired me. May the angels inspire others on their journey. I am ready to devote a good portion of my life toward the creation of wholeness through this project. I guess I have found a mission and this feels very good! Curious where the road will lead and if I will have the courage to follow…
The Angels may be hosted by the center as a fund raising event. My dream to weave art into community and having these angels help fuel good causes throughout Maine and perhaps the world is beginning to come to fruition.
When I toured the center I almost burst into tears. I was touched by the work many people are doing to help others as they traverse the terrain of loss. I was touched by the possibility of working with this caring organization. Weaving the gifts I carry has been a dream. Allowing my art and energy work to blend together in service of community, has been a goal of mine. The grief I still carry in my own heart was also touched. I never look at what is being given as an accident. I wonder what children inside myself may still be grieving…
I have written before about grief. Grief has many faces and has it’s own time. After grief has run it’s course, it does not mean we go back to being who we were before the a loss. We do put ourselves back together and we are different. I find on my journey with grief, I don’t replace the loss, more it becomes part of the fabric I become as a new reorganized whole.
I have lost time by holding back grief. I sometimes grieve this lost time. I have lost those I loved. Through divorce, I have lost the dream of a relationship with my children’s father into the next stages of life. I have lost pets. I have lost my father. I have lost relatives. Early on I lost friends who died of aids in there 20’s. I have lost myself in relationships. I have lost my children who are now almost grown. I find myself today in a fertile place of regrouping. There are no short cuts. It is a journey. It is a remembering. It is a re-weaving. It is organizing into a new story. Not always straight.
Still, in times when I am in the midst of experiencing sadness and loss, I find I am not ‘broken’. Overwhelmed, yet not broken. I am feeling all of it:
Hurt, loss, regret, hopelessness, loneliness, anger, and frustration. Some how I know I will make it through. I guess age has something to do with this knowledge. The experience of being with loss, does not necessarily ease the pain, but is helpful. I have howled with hurt, like a wolf crying for a slain mate. I know the depth of that pain.
My trip to the Center has inspired me. May the angels inspire others on their journey. I am ready to devote a good portion of my life toward the creation of wholeness through this project. I guess I have found a mission and this feels very good! Curious where the road will lead and if I will have the courage to follow…
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Angel Tide
Had the good fortune of having Fredda and Leslie Paul staying with me this weekend.
He is one of my teachers. I go to him when I have deep questions.
Fredda is a patient and loving advisor. He has been through a lot and knows how to take life in stride and still walk forward. This morning we spoke of prayer. We spoke of sadness. We spoke of being alone and being in community. We spoke of how the telephone has robbed of us deeper ways of listening. We spoke of how the elders walk and communicate. Most of all we spoke of how to pray with the tides. And he reminded it is stronger when we pray for others, and not to ask spirit for ourselves directly. He explained that all prayers ARE about us.
I take comfort in his words and in his slow being. If you want to talk with Fredda you have to be on elder time. If your elder teaches at 4 a.m. you wake at 4 a.m. even if this is not your natural way. Teachings are slower than we Americans are accustomed and I find I have to listen between the spaces of what is spoken. Today he spoke of staying on the road. Staying the course Spirit has placed in front of us. I appreciate this advice. When I am hurting, I want to run. He told me the story of how as a kid he was walking with his grandmother and his grandmother said "Grandson I don't want you to take a short cut. I want you to walk with me." Of course, Fredda being young and not fully listening, ran off in front of his Grandmother winding his way in search of a faster way. He ended up falling. His Grandmother did not see him. She went back on the road to where she had last seen him, and she listened. Finally she was guided toward the way he had come. He was sitting on the ground his ankle strained. She gathered ground moss and wrapped his ankle and said: “Grand Son I am going to go ahead. When your ankle feels better please get up and meet me at the clearing.” Fredda waited for half an hour and when his ankle pain eased, he got up and did what his Grand Mother had instructed. She was waiting patiently for him and said, “Grand Son I think you have a teaching story now.” She gazed at him with love and said, "Beware of short-cuts, and stay on the well traveled road."
I asked Fredda, “How do you know when you are on the right road?” He calmly gazed at me and said, “Your heart will tell you. It's best not to chase and hunt. Follow the prayer I spoke with you about this morning and you will know. I can’t tell you everything; some lessons are for you to learn. I am here however as a guide.”
Lately the lessons of heart are many. The Buddhist speaks of suffering. I have trouble with the word 'suffering'. Even when I hurt the most, I have not attached suffering to my hurt. I may feel horrible. I may feel sad, or betrayed, or angry, or stuck, etc. and yet I don't feel as if I'm suffering... Don't exactly know why. My feeling feelings can be over whelming and I can be sucked into them. When I sit and listen deeply it's usually a struggle between not liking what is, having to feel what is and the acceptance of the lack of power I have to change what is. Yes, back to my old friend acceptance. Oil Spills that kill and maim our environment, I personally have no power over. I do have a choice whether I want to continue using oil as a heating agent. The sadness and lack of my power collide and it is this inability to change present 'isness', my powerlessness, which frustrates me. The frustration can override and confuse the original feeling. I can't make it different sometimes sucks! I can't change someones mind. I can't dive to the bottom of the ocean and cap a leaking well.
I can pray for the best outcomes that are in service toward a greater awareness and understanding. As the AA creed states: 'Accept what I have power over and where I am powerless and the wisdom to know the difference.' The only person I can change is me. As my awareness deepens, I understand how this simple understanding has merrit. Feelings will shift eventually...
Fredda said to me today. “Eva I will feel you when are praying and I will pray with you. The prayers however are yours. I can simply stand by.”
I will deepen into this practice for the next month, experimenting with praying during high tide, so my prayers can be amplified through the waters, and as the waters turn, my prayers can merge into the vast ocean.
I will return latter and listen to what answers have arrived on the crest of the returning tide.
He is one of my teachers. I go to him when I have deep questions.
Fredda is a patient and loving advisor. He has been through a lot and knows how to take life in stride and still walk forward. This morning we spoke of prayer. We spoke of sadness. We spoke of being alone and being in community. We spoke of how the telephone has robbed of us deeper ways of listening. We spoke of how the elders walk and communicate. Most of all we spoke of how to pray with the tides. And he reminded it is stronger when we pray for others, and not to ask spirit for ourselves directly. He explained that all prayers ARE about us.
I take comfort in his words and in his slow being. If you want to talk with Fredda you have to be on elder time. If your elder teaches at 4 a.m. you wake at 4 a.m. even if this is not your natural way. Teachings are slower than we Americans are accustomed and I find I have to listen between the spaces of what is spoken. Today he spoke of staying on the road. Staying the course Spirit has placed in front of us. I appreciate this advice. When I am hurting, I want to run. He told me the story of how as a kid he was walking with his grandmother and his grandmother said "Grandson I don't want you to take a short cut. I want you to walk with me." Of course, Fredda being young and not fully listening, ran off in front of his Grandmother winding his way in search of a faster way. He ended up falling. His Grandmother did not see him. She went back on the road to where she had last seen him, and she listened. Finally she was guided toward the way he had come. He was sitting on the ground his ankle strained. She gathered ground moss and wrapped his ankle and said: “Grand Son I am going to go ahead. When your ankle feels better please get up and meet me at the clearing.” Fredda waited for half an hour and when his ankle pain eased, he got up and did what his Grand Mother had instructed. She was waiting patiently for him and said, “Grand Son I think you have a teaching story now.” She gazed at him with love and said, "Beware of short-cuts, and stay on the well traveled road."
I asked Fredda, “How do you know when you are on the right road?” He calmly gazed at me and said, “Your heart will tell you. It's best not to chase and hunt. Follow the prayer I spoke with you about this morning and you will know. I can’t tell you everything; some lessons are for you to learn. I am here however as a guide.”
Lately the lessons of heart are many. The Buddhist speaks of suffering. I have trouble with the word 'suffering'. Even when I hurt the most, I have not attached suffering to my hurt. I may feel horrible. I may feel sad, or betrayed, or angry, or stuck, etc. and yet I don't feel as if I'm suffering... Don't exactly know why. My feeling feelings can be over whelming and I can be sucked into them. When I sit and listen deeply it's usually a struggle between not liking what is, having to feel what is and the acceptance of the lack of power I have to change what is. Yes, back to my old friend acceptance. Oil Spills that kill and maim our environment, I personally have no power over. I do have a choice whether I want to continue using oil as a heating agent. The sadness and lack of my power collide and it is this inability to change present 'isness', my powerlessness, which frustrates me. The frustration can override and confuse the original feeling. I can't make it different sometimes sucks! I can't change someones mind. I can't dive to the bottom of the ocean and cap a leaking well.
I can pray for the best outcomes that are in service toward a greater awareness and understanding. As the AA creed states: 'Accept what I have power over and where I am powerless and the wisdom to know the difference.' The only person I can change is me. As my awareness deepens, I understand how this simple understanding has merrit. Feelings will shift eventually...
Fredda said to me today. “Eva I will feel you when are praying and I will pray with you. The prayers however are yours. I can simply stand by.”
I will deepen into this practice for the next month, experimenting with praying during high tide, so my prayers can be amplified through the waters, and as the waters turn, my prayers can merge into the vast ocean.
I will return latter and listen to what answers have arrived on the crest of the returning tide.
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