Awaiting God’s Instruction

Where did my smile fly to?  Have any of you seen it?  I imagine it sprouted wings and simply lifted off my face in a single moment of inexplicable, intoxicated joy.  You know how smiles can be… they sure have a mind of their own and tend to do as they please.  Gosh, I can just hear some of you saying, “Oh, Athena Grace, just fake it till you make it.”  Smiles beget smiles.  (Even Anthony Robbins says to always smile upon answering the phone, because the person on the other end can feel it, and it is a highly inviting way to open the space of communication.)  There.  I’m doing it.  I’m smiling.  Yeah, it feels pretty decent.  Try it.  Crack a smile.  But I guess it’s more than just a smile I’m groping for…

Everyone has been telling me that this island, though She is bona fide paradise, she MEANS BUSINESS.  When one lands here, it is in the name of heavy-handed healing, cleansing and purification.  Everyone says so.  Everyone who’s not just on a piddley vacation, that is.  If you find yourself on this island, it is to partake in some massive furniture heaving, wall demolishing and spring-summer-winter-fall cleaning.  Shrug.  When they told me that, I thought, “Big deal…That’s pretty much my favorite past time, anyway…”  But I’m coming to feel that this sensuously charged chunk of volcanic aftermath hugged on all sides by a warm, wild ocean, don’t mess around.

I am standing on a precipice of a new world.  I am naked, freshly hatched and tender.  Yet also I am strong and fierce and seasoned.  All this to say, that the honeymoon phase of drunk wonder might be over already.  That was sure a warp speed tropical honeymoon, eh?  But I am not here to make romance with conceptual, cardboard notions of Life and Purpose and Spirit.  I am here to plant my feet firmly into the living Earth and pull Her infinite strength into my heavenly body, invite the Sky to flood me with infinite wisdom and peace.  I am here to draw into my luminous core where rests every blessing that has ever been bestowed upon me and shoot it back out into this vast dancing pool of illusory division in the name of the One.

Maybe… Or should I just be a sport and gobble up my oozing, steamy slice of humble pie and admit that I do not indeed know what All Pervading Switchboard Operator has in store for me?  I find myself once again cooking in the internal agitation of my beloved, eternal inquiry~ finding the appropriate balance of effort and grace.  How much do I work and sweat and manipulate the flow in the direction of my will… and how much do I rest into the passive space of listening; wait for the universe to twirl me, dip me, toss me just east of gently about this rugged human dance floor?

How do I want to invent myself at the warm lotus feet of this fresh baked beginning?  In a way, it seems time sensitive, like if I don’t hit the ground running, I might realize that the ground was in fact an ocean and I am already in mid-sink.  This is my fear.  And yet I know that there is no sense in “running” out of fear… fear of sinking.  In truth, I am Every Buoyant in God’s Ocean.  But still… being human requires action.  It just does.

So here’s my plan~ I’m gonna eat tons of cookies and then reevaluate.  Just kidding.  I said that because I am sitting outside the Kilauea Bakery as I write and everyone around me is nursing yummy drinks and sweet carbohydrates and right about now that sure seems a lot easier than being in the bearable, gnawing discomfort of this wondering.  Ten chocolate chip cookies, a double shot latte and a frontal lobotomy oughta do it.

Okay, so now for my *REAL* plan~ I decided to give myself a week… which means until next Sunday, September 19th… to pray and flow and listen.  God, please guide me this week.  Send me signs and angels and synchronicities on High.  I root myself firmly in the present.  I stand willing and receptive to your loving, auspicious direction.  How can I serve?  What would You have me do?  What would You have me say?  Where would You have me go?

And then… come Sunday night, I will check back in and see what has unfolded, who I have met, what doors have opened, what dreams have beckoned.  As I was writing that, the cockatoo who hangs out in the courtyard here just broke out in maniacal peals of mock laughter.  Freaky.  Almost as freaky as the musty cigarette scented, laughing, wind-up clown that my grandma sent me for Christmas one year, whom I exiled immediately to the top shelf of my closet, but once in a while felt inexplicably compelled to pull his string and listen, trembling as he expressed his soulless, mechanical self.

I digress.  Something else you should know about this island, is that time is like one of those slippery, liquid filled balloons sold in toy stores that inevitably leap from your grip.  Time twists and dips and folds in upon its self in playful, infinite loops.  Back in Oakland, I was pretty proficient at pitching time like a docile, flaccid tent, the stakes fashioned from the structures of my choosing.  Oakland time rolled over for me, belly up, like a submissive family dog.  But Kauai time… might be more like an electric eel with a tiger’s head.  Taming it might be more of a valiant, heroic trial.  All this FLOW.  It is exponential femininity here.  Windy, oceanic storms.  A taunting, soft deluge of esoteric mating calls steadily drifting from Heaven’s lips.

Something else you should know about this island is that it is perfectly acceptable to hitchhike (and leave doors unlocked)… which is clearly indicative that I am in a whole other world.  Not only is hitchhiking a mode of transportation, it is also a living, breathing oracle.  God sends the perfect angels down the main highway at just the perfect time to give and receive the precise messages, connections and blessings that are required in order to fulfill on the prescribed Destiny assigned to us who have heeded the deep, resounding island call.

Yesterday evening, I thumbed a ride to Hanalei.  A radiant crone-goddess pulled over and invited me into her chariot.  She exuded a soul perfume of deep peace and beauty.  Immediately the bracelet on her arm grabbed my attention.  Three metals, woven together~ gold, copper and silver, it was the very bracelet worn by many at my mom’s ashram.  I asked her about it.  She said she used to be very involved at Ananda before she moved here three years ago… She said that the bracelets are worn by most Kriyabans (people initiated into the techniques of kriya yoga… a form of meditation designed to accelerate the process of shedding karma in order to attain self realization).  I felt so at home being with her, because I felt Yogananda in the car with us too, and right about now, that is a REALLY GOOD THING.  In this time of vulnerable, fledgling openness, inward turning and impending creation, there is nobody I’d rather ride in the car with… (except maybe Jesus, Krishna, Amma, Hafiz, Rumi, Saint Francis and Saint Theresa…)  When I got out of her car, she gave me her card and told me she was available if I needed her, since we are family.  Blessed BE!

And now I release myself once again to the Omniscient Ocean… and wait.

Amen.

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6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. dan
    Sep 13, 2010 @ 15:37:50

    There are no coincidences!!! Love the ones you are with, as the old song lirics go.
    I Love You!
    mahalo

    Reply

    • Pheeee
      Sep 13, 2010 @ 16:06:04

      Very lyrical & image filled. I could see/hear you reading aloud with visual content associated with your words flowing through you as you speak, just like you write. I so look fwd to your blog posts. You soon gonna go up the Na’Pali trail(s)?? Dmitry might could bring you in by Kayak too ya know.

      Reply

  2. souldipper
    Sep 13, 2010 @ 17:17:46

    This is going to be one full and exciting week. I’ll be sending continuous light and love, you Lover of the Divine Essence of All.

    Reply

  3. markbyrd
    Sep 14, 2010 @ 06:37:06

    Naked and freshly hatched??? May GOD Bless you Athena!!! mark

    Reply

  4. Alex
    Sep 15, 2010 @ 06:58:12

    I once hitched from the head of the Kalalau trail to Lihue with a woman who researched squirrels and the number of locations of hidden nuts they can remember.
    I guess I wasn’t ready to meet any Kriyabans.

    Reply

    • Athena Grace
      Sep 15, 2010 @ 14:36:58

      Or…
      I wasn’t ready to meet any squirrel experts…
      depends on who’s building the hierarchy…

      Reply

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