An Enchanted Day in Purgatory

Maybe it’s time I stopped making such a big to-do about heart ache… I have a habit of acting as if it were the most important occurrence in the whole wide multiverse.  But maybe it’s as common and snooze-worthy as pooping or rain.  (Not that rain and pooping are snooze-worthy… Actually, come to think of it I find both of those rather colossal.  Breathing too.  Hmmm, I guess everything is pretty wondrous when really examined.  Oh well…)

I leave for Kauai tomorrow.  In the mean time, I’m just a whipering feather carried along on the Sky’s breath.  I guess in essence, this is a beautiful thing.  But in practice, I feel anxious and lost.  It was weird coming home from Mama’s ashram and having nowhere to land that was “mine”.  (I suppose “mine” is a debatable concept… but I don’t want to debate it, because I love having a little sliver of this physical world that is my VIP lounge, and mine alone.  Though I must admit that my soul sister, Dara did provide an incredibly soft landing for me back in Oakland.  She was bursting with effulgent devotion for me and I always feel so welcome in her gorgeous, light, spacious “VIP lounge”.  Plus the afternoon was flooded with sunshine and amiable warmth.  She cooked us this exquisite Peruvian corn soup, grilled chicken and veggies and we dined outside in the saucy, gold-stained evening in the silent, towering company of three blooming sunflowers.  I am so grateful for Dara’s generosity.  I was having anxiety about making the transition from the warm, perpetually smiling, forested utopia of the ashram back to the fast, abrasive chaos of the Bay Area.  But landing at Dara’s house was like landing in an enormous bushel of feathers.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

Then as “bedtime” approached, she drove me to Mykael’s new “tool shed”, the Nirvana Inn.  Again, I was surrounded by beloved friends and felt completely loved and held.  When I left for the ashram, the Nirvana Inn was overflowing with unpacked boxes, the poster child of disarray.  My jaw fell on the Sky’s floor when I walked in last night and found the Nirvana Inn to be a modest little nugget of paradise.  Mykael had poured himself into the task of creating such intelligent beauty back there.  As soon as I entered, it was clear that I was in Nirvana.  The lighting was soft, warm and sexy.  His sacred art tastefully adorned the walls.  Exotic fabrics softened the doorways and plants breathed life into manmade space.  I wanted to cancel my trip to Kauai and spend Eternity in Nirvana’s Richmond annex with my friends instead!

I also felt pangs of alienation upon discovering Mykael’s new sanctuary.  Less than a week ago, I intimately knew Mykael’s life and home.  It was my life and home too.  And now… I was a stranger in a strange land.  I had had no part in the creation of this heaven… except that this new nest had been fashioned from many of “my” things: curtains, fabrics, futon, pillows, etc. (Not to mention my cat…)  It was like falling through a fractal into a parallel universe.  And Mykael too… he was the same guy that I knew and loved… yet he was not.  His heart seemed like a foreign country.

*This is the pivotal moment when I could either break down and sob or just keep writing through it.  We Capricorns are like chocolates with cream filled centers.  We are as beautifully gooey and delicate as the best of ‘em… but we know how to put on our thick, bittersweet armor and step onto the battle field of life when there is shit to do.  Honestly, I can’t be bothered to fall apart right now.  Besides, I prefer to close myself in the VIP lounge that I don’t have right now and let go in the privacy of my own modest sliver of bounded space.  Sobbing on OPC (Other People’s Couches) just generally isn’t my cuppa tea.

Not only is my physical life boiled down to nothing, but my construct of the meaning of life is pretty well in holy shambles too.  I can feel my paradigm cracking open and preparing to give birth to something astounding.  I can no longer convince myself that this life is about striving, achieving, consuming… A Course in Miracles teaches that my only function is the one God gave me, and that is to forgive, forgive and forgive some more.  Ultimately, I am here to embody Love.  Suffering comes from denying this.  Get, get, get, get… I watch myself flail in old habits of existing.  A skewed and limping vantage point that says there is not enough, there is a limited amount of everything that I could possibly want and need, so I must hoard, hold on, deny, deprive, manipulate… in order to get my tight-fisted, white knuckled needs met.  It just ain’t so.  And yet it’s hard to let go and fly.  Come to think of it, that was the message of Spirit2go’s last blog post… letting go and flying… and come to think of it squared, Souldipper’s most recent post was about the True Self flourishin in the act of selfless giving.

Selfless service.  It’s the only thing I can conceive that really matters in this twisted life.  I pray for my life force to be a purified, unbridled expression of God’s.  That I am but a vessel built to extend God’s Resplendent Love into this forgetful world.  But this yearning is not a maze that I can think my way out of.  Trust me, I have been trying… and lately all that comes to me is a great, big, Holy Shhhhhh from an imperceptible someplace inside me.  Something is gently telling me to relax and stop working so hard to “get a handle on it”.  I am being moved to a place I have never been before (nor have I ever left).  I keep flip-flopping between fear, relief and excitement.

Gasp!  I just looked up into the gloomy, blustery sky and LO!  A message addressed to yours truly in smoke~ Surrender Athena Grace LMNOP!!!!  Wow!  Miracles are REAL!!!

Amen.

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