Bird Magic

Welcome to another gloriously imperfect moment in the life and times of Athena Grace!  Make yourself at home, and rejoice that you can not hear the hideous cacophony of a sea of barking dawgies.  (Calling them “dawgies” actually softened my tense, stressed insides for a few moments.)  For the most part, they haven’t been getting to me as much as they COULD… but tonight it hurts.  Probably because I have not been in the ocean today.  The ocean has become my lover.  It’s official.  I should change my relationship status on facebook right away! …NOT!  But honestly~ when I am merged with the ocean, I am making love.  I feel wholer than whole.  I feel entirely at peace.  Bliss is no longer just a trendy word.  (Jesus, bliss is such a trendy word!  I never realized that before… but as I typed it, I felt compelled to stand up and cry out, “Hallelujah!”)  Oh, well, I guess it’s good to spend a day apart from ones lover every once in a squeaky freak show.

Another runner up of a reason why I might be extra sensitive to the domesticated beasts yowling outside my winder is that time has been so saggy and loose today like a god-awful pair of nasty, crotch stained pants with a stretched out elastic waist, hanging on a smelly, packed rack in some thrift store.  Pants that you would not wear if somebody paid you… or you might if somebody paid you… depending on how much and how motivated you are by moo-la-la… I digress…Stretchy pants time~ living today has been like falling down Alice’s rabbit hole.  It just keeps spilling down, down, down, down… Shrug.  I kinda like it.  Sorta.  I kinda like everything these days…

Life is so spankin’ good here that who cares if there’s a few crunchy, stupid moments… really!  Today while I was loafing around (God, I dig that expression… I picture myself as a fresh baked loaf of honey whole wheat bread who incessantly shleps around on saggy couches.)

I just took a blogging intermission and went in the kitchen to fix myself a massive glass of black juice… I’m cleansing my digestive tract, drinking this stuff called “intestinal drawing formula”.  Strange that something so black is sposta be good for me… but that’s neither here nor there… The moral of the story is that while in the kitchen, I swirled around with my housemate, Catherine for some highly quality moments and now I feel eighty eight percent less imperfect about the current general climate of reality.  Catherine said that she too experienced time to be thrift store, stretched out elastic waist pants today! (she didn’t mention if hers were stained or not…)  Did you?!

After talking with Catherine, I feel steeped in enchantment.  I feel like I’m dripping with magic.  I saw more cardinals this morning!  It was pouring rain and they were splashing in the flooded rain gutters in the eves above my bedroom window.  I could just see their red tails and fluffy butts as they flitted joyously in their make-shift bathtub!  Then they flew into a nearby tree so that I could admire the fullness of their profound, regal beauty.  Golly, they stun me!  I watched one of the male cardinals chase his duller colored brown wife around in the tree.  They were so playful!  She would sit still and quiet, waiting for him to come after her and then she would quickly dart to another branch. (I’ve played that game many times!)  I dig a bird who knows how to have some good old fashioned fun with her hubby!  Usually I’m not so into just watching nature like a T.V. set… Unflattering truth be told, I’d rather get lost in all my deep, “important” thoughts.  I feel like I “should” be able to just sit around and watch plants grow and junk like that.  I guess I’m getting better at it.  But I was entirely captivated my magical bird spirits.  They have visited me in so many dreams, that the respective worlds of my night time dreams and my day dreams got feverishly smeared today.

This happened again in the afternoon, when I was walking home from the Healthy Hut (the over-priced, phone booth sized, local health food store) and the post office (yup, that was my big outing for the day!)  There’s a macaw named Merlin whose cage is right up against the sidewalk.  Lately, macaws have been showing up in my dreams a ton!  Today as I was passing Merlin, he called out to me, “Hello!”  I stopped in my tracks.

“Hello,” I replied.  He sidled his way over to the edge of his cage, getting as close to me as possible.  Since macaws have been flying so close to the surface of my boundless psyche, I figured I’d take this opportunity to get more intimate with him.  I felt awkward, standing there with Merlin.  I’m not very adept at relating with birds.  When I was a kid, I stuck my finger in a green parrot’s cage and he bit half of my fingernail off.  Blood gushed out.  I was traumatized.  I told this to Merlin and he listened intently.  I heard parrots are highly telepathic, so I felt like a dork talking to him out loud in English… But he seemed more than happy to humor me.  I told him all that was on my mind.  He stood close and stretched his wings, revealing an immaculate rainbow of feathers to me (minus purple).  I studied his complex, divinely intelligent beauty in a state of transfixed awe.  I gazed right into his piercing bird eye.  Though it was nowhere near warm or human, his overall presence was disarming.  As I reflect on the experience now, I feel my heart spread wide and waft with sweetness.

Strange magic.  Birds… Somehow these vibrant birds are helping me turn my dreams inside out.  They are helping me loosen my false, white knuckled grip on “reality”.  The Dream, Itself is shaking me awake.  I like it.  A lot.

Amen.

Another Reading On My Holy Dipstick

I’m writing at the desk in my bedroom this evening.  As I sit in the solitude composed of way too many solid rectangles, I feel myself squirming like a chocolate smeared preschooler.  Today I have a thirst for stimulation, adventure, newness.  And this bare-bones bedroom satiates none of those.  But you know what?!?!  It really doesn’t matter where I am, does it?  Yeah, let’s unabashedly plunge right into the fermenting, over-ripe cliché… Where ever I go… HERE I AM!  It’s really just a simple matter of downshifting.  And invoking the elite, unsurpassable company of my very best friend, God.  Come on… if you’re drunk on God, what in the heck does it matter if you are in your monastic bedroom, Amsterdam’s Red Light District, at the base of a incessantly spilling, orgiastic waterfall, or sailing through space in the quaint basket of a hot air balloon?  That’s right, it don’t make no nevermind.

But then again, I’m not quite drunk yet.  I’m just riding a mild buzz.  Though if a deputy angel pulled me over and made me take the line test, the winged peace officer would set me loose once again to dance along Life’s treacherous highway, citation free… though maybe with a winking warning.

If life was merely God splurging on an indulgent binge trip to the movies, then I believe I have been seeing some bitchin’ coming attractions rolling like dreamily grinning clouds through my current existence.  Nice prose, Athena!  Go Team All Pervasive!!!  (Pardon me while I slap God a high five!)  And now for what I meant by that, in plain English:  I have been glimpsing some extended sneak peeks and succulent tastes of the kind of joy and peace that the scriptures condone.  You know… the deep seated, unconditional kind.  (Speaking of which, it just started raining.  The view out my window is mostly clear… But apparently there’s a gaggle of clouds shedding copious droves of tears of joy right above my house.  Even though I am inside my first world shelter, I still feel washed clean as the rain sings down.  I see it out the window.  It makes my vision look pixilated like a cheap TV set.  And the air has become thirty six percent more sensual under the influence of falling water.  Wow.  If I wasn’t drunk before…) What was I saying?  Oh yeah, peace and love…

Yesterday, I had my second surf lesson!  And you know that rhapsodious old adage, “first is the worst, second is the best?”  Well, there must be something to it, because my second surfing lesson WAS the best… and the first was the worst, Athena Grace LMNOP exclaimed, wrinkling her nose emphatically.  Yes, I’m exaggerating, but the waves were much gentler my second day out, and as a result, I found myself to be substantially more courageous.  Like… I actually got on the board!  Grin.  (Ahhhhhhh… the dogs are barking non stop and it’s about as irritating as accidentally rubbing your eye after slicing up a HOT chili pepper.)  So there I was, straddling my long board, being rocked ever so gen-tl-y in the turquoise belly of Hanalei Bay, waiting for a wave exuberant enough to thrust myself into.  But not *really* waiting… Just looking around in awe.  Marveling at how the sky is like a big blue bowl full of jumbo sized, very freshly popped corn.  I know I said that the other day… I must be craving the good old fashioned cinematic snack sensation.  I love stuffing my mouth full of popcorn like a depraved little piggy in homo sapien disguise.

But I digress… Because I wasn’t pigging out on popcorn, I was bearing wondrous witness to life from the best seat in the house.  I watched a benevolent wave carry Brad towards the palm tree lined, golden sanded shore.  I watched Brad pop out of the churning surf moments later, looking like an ecstatic rat, near drowned in the All Pervading Ocean of Holy You Know What… And I thought to myself, “Brad must really LOVE me, to demand that I learn to surf.”  That thought was followed by flood of beautiful feeling, like a dam of warm honey bursting inside me.  Then the camera panned out and it was no longer just Brad loving me.  It was also the ocean, the sky, the popcorn clouds, the jagged, breathing, furry, green mountains, the warm satin air passively pressing its way into my lungs and animating this strange flick we know as Life.

I think I met my maker, Folks!!!!!  Never before in my conscious memory have I felt so Loved by All That Is.  FELT… Like in my guts, on my skin, in my mind (Ahem, YES, I say that one CAN feel in their mind…)… I felt like all of Creation was keeping me company.  (A gecko just chirped.  They sound like little nocturnal birds.  I think it was God saying, “Finally, we got through to dense old Athena Grace!  This calls for a champagne toast!!!)

That generous helping of a holy moment in Hanalei Bay is one example of the trailers of coming attractions.  I have been waking up in many moments and feeling profound levels of contentment, trust, fullness and a general wafting perfume of universal love.  And do you want to know my professional assessment of this matter?

Well… according to my sentient-poetical-metaphysic dipstick, humanity has REALLY been going through the ringer as of late.  Come on, you totally know what I’m talking about.  I believe I’ve said this before, but I’m pretty certain they are birthing pains.  I believe that soon the collective oil will be hot enough and we will start to POP in rapid succession!  Yes, we will pop out into a whole new dimensional kaleidoscopic orientation of Self and World, in which Love radically remembers its Self through each of us… and each of us remembers its One Beloved Self.

I’m just sayin’… Shrug.  It’s entirely possible based on what I have had the blessed, divine privilege of nibbling and sipping recently.  And based on an extrapolatory model of the trajectory of energies and events unfurling ont this spinning rock in this whirling galaxy to date.  The oil is getting *very* hot!

Amen.

Am I Dreaming?!

To Whom It May Concern:

It’s seven forty six pm.  I am well spent and I don’t really feel like writing… But I’m gonna do it anyway.  Because writing is my Beloved.  This blog is a relationship and I am devoted even when it my lips are chapped and my breasts are sandy and I’d rather be geeking out with my Course in Miracles text or knitting.

Hey!  I just realized that I love my own company!  I was really afraid I didn’t for a while there… because I can be so prone to loneliness.  But I’ll tell you what!?  Get ready, because this is precious, meaty wisdom of the ages…

Loneliness and self-containment, self-satisfaction… what ever kind of self-y-ness you want to call it… ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE.  In the wicked world of black-and-white-either-or-dom, you might think that they were… but straight from the book of First-Handed Certainties… I can vouch that they are NOT.  Especially not on the island of Kauai.  I mean think about it… Today I did my sadhana, cooked amazing soup (made with carrot tops, chard, coconut meat, ginger, fresh turmeric root, onion, garlic… all blended together, sensuously smooth and thick.  Yum cubed!), read the BEST book in the world~ Secrets of the Talking Jaguar (which is the PERFECT book for me to be reading at this time of massive transition, because it is a memoir about a man answering a deep soul call and being radically led by Spirit(s).  Honestly, if I thought my journey was epic… His is at least a gazillion times more intense, courageous, authentic and unbelievably woven and ordained by Grace, Herself.), took a walk AND had my first introduction to surfing!!!

Wow, Athena!  Surfing?  How WAS it???

Terrifying.  Talk about feeling out of control!  OUT OF CONTROL…  Today was the first day of big swells.  The ocean has been pretty mild all summer.  For the week and a half that I have been here, Hanalei bay has just passively lapped at the soft sand of Her steadfast shore.  But not today!  The weather is changing, autumn is rolling in and so are the waves, baby!  Waves.  Sitting on the shore, watching the waves, I realized quickly that I have very little intimate relationship with them.  I don’t know how they behave and how that behavior impacts my body.  So trying shackle a long board to my ankle and add THAT unwieldy element into the equation seemed wildly unreasonable.  Needless to say, I hardly touched the board today.  I did a lot of mere BEING in the waves, developing fluency and comfort in their throes.  I also did a lot of observing of more fluent surfers.  And yes, I got up on the board a couple of times… But holy Jehosaphat!  Surfing is a whole different language.  Beyond that, it is a whole different WORLD.

I’m gonna go back tomorrow.

Have you ever swum in Hanalei Bay?  If not, I will say this much~ Puff is one tasteful dragon, boy!  Every time I am there, I feel like I am immersed in the most decadent and magnificent lucid dream… except in this dream, unlike my few prior lucid dreams, I don’t get so excited upon realizing that I am fully conscious in the dream state, that I wake myself up and find myself back in the disappointing [metaphorical] mud puddle that is my waking life, my plain old bed in the plain old dark.  Nope.  This time, when I realize that I am drenched in the most magnificent dream scene humanly possible, I just keep right on sitting there (or swimming…), surrounded by the lushest, greenest, breathing mountains, under a wide, unabashed sky whose sparse clouds look like humungous kernels of freshly popped corn, and the bay its self, streaming like a grandiose vat of crashing liquid silver.  Oh and often some purple fog haunts the tops of the jagged, green peaks in the not so distant distance.

I might stay here forever.  Wouldn’t you?  I guess island life is not for EVERYONE… but it certainly is for people who find deep fulfillment in such activities as writing, knitting, yoga, meditation, cooking fresh, simple food, reading great books, wandering through lush jungles, maybe making love again some day, frolicking in the surf and reminiscing about the good olde days when I had a luminous iridescent fish tail… For those types of people, Kauai is a highly suitable and savory Home.  I feel embraced by everything here.  Even when I am floundering around in my shit… The sensuous air swaddles me tenderly.  This is the perfect place to find myself as a whole, single woman… because the sacred land reaches to me, meets me like a Lover.  The sky breathes sweetness down my neck and up my skirt.  The warm, fertile earth gently gives beneath each step.  The birds sing me saucy, tropical love songs.  The flowers surf hidden currents that splash upon the shores of my awareness, leaving me dizzy and gasping.  Can this be real?  Strangely… yes.

Is it too good to be true?  Strangely…no.

I hitchhiked home from Hanalei (because I didn’t want to pay money to eat out with Brad and his enchanting girlfriend Chancey.).  A strong, dark, handsome surfer picked me up in his pick-up truck with monster wheels.  His two little children rode with him in the cab, so I rode in the back, fully submerged in the bliss of jungle dusk.  I hadn’t ridden in the back of a truck since childhood when my best friend’s dad used to give her and I recreational thrill rides around the block.  I sipped the soft sweet wind, gulped the glutinous colors and marveled at how excruciatingly good God is treating me.  I thought of You, my readers, wishing you were there with me… So I snapped a photo.  Welcome to my world, formerly known as “too good to be true”!

Amen.

Moonlit Unicorns in Desert’s Breath

Alright, alright, I’m going to come out of the blasted closet.  It’s hot in here and hella stuffy.  And besides, I’ve heard that the world outside is kinda amazing…

I was born in Reno.  I don’t often tell people this.  I identify myself as a bay area native… I have lived there since the age of two.  And to me, Reno, Nevada seems kinda trashy for the likes of a sophisticated, bohemian lady such as yours truly.  Not only was I BORN in “the biggest little city”, but I spent [too] many a childhood summer under wide, dry, vast Nevada skies.

Why do I bother to confess this modest nuance of my personal history today?  Because these very words are tumbling forth from beautiful Reno.  And there is something about Reno that fits like a square peg in a square hole inside me whether I like it or not.  (At least in summer time… I don’t love all that frozen business as far as I can throw it…) As it turns out, this is becoming the summer of holy pilgrimages!  I have made a holy pilgrimage to Reno to ride unicorns!  My dear friend and beloved knight, Sir John has a gaggle of them and he’s been trying to get me up here to ride for months.  But I was too busy trying to hold my frenetic bay area life together.  Shrug.  Now that it’s falling apart, I have set myself free to wander and drink from the bottomless well of sacred images, textures, scents, feelings that lay in wait all over this miraculous planet, earth!  Three cheers for falling apart!  (At least in this moment… I imagine I’ll feel less enthused in moments to come…)

(Last night, I dreamed that a cardinal flew into my temple (massage/yoga/meditation room).  Cardinals are one of my favourite bird… I am stunned by their redness and their gurglish elation of a song!  Cardinals live in Hawaii (among other places) and I take it as an auspicious sign that Hawaii is one of my next destinations!  A cardinal flew into my temple!)

What do I love about Reno?  The dry heat.  The infinite sea of sweet-scented sage brush.  Being surrounded by endless chains of arid, shadowy mountain ranges who rest in a patient timeless meditation, their shy peaks kissing the sea of unbounded blue above.  It is six forty two am and already the world is flash flooded with vibrant light.  In the bay area, I usually only get to taste stingy bites of the sky at any given time.  It is always obstructed by buildings and ostentatious topography and the towering ambitions of those who live lives in perpetual high gear.  (Generally, making plans with a friend in the bay area requires planning at least two weeks out and then blocking out a sorry two hour slab of time at best.  Can you feel my disdain?  I could say a lot more on this topic, but I’d rather write about the enchantment of Reno right now…)

I am drinking all these images as one who has almost died of thirst without hardly noticing that she was wasting away… but every time I leave the bay area, I find dormant pieces of my soul.  They come alive and I remember more of the sacredness that beats my poetic heart.

We spent the day at Sierra Hot Springs, lounging like nobody’s business, luxuriating in warm water and decadent shade, expansive lullabies sung by towering pine trees and warm desert wind, bird songs and the expertly blended perfume composed of heat and dirt and pine.  I invited all the beauty to enter me and become a long term guest in the spacious world Inside.  It graciously accepted and flooded into the infinitude of cracks in me.  We arrived at Sir John’s home after dark.  The moon danced in taunting stillness, high in the foldless canapé of deepening indigo.  She was just over half full and her light was icy silver.  Her light was infectious and uncontainable.  Ever time I looked at Her she drenched me silly, while throwing a twisted, knowing smile my way.  Touché, lady luna, I bow to your spicy, understated splendor.

“Do you want to see my babies before you retire?”  Sir John asked.  I felt lazy and hot springed out and just wanted to flop into bed, but I mustered.  Were they *really* unicorns?  I guess as with all things, it’s in the eye of the beholder.  But if I had any doubt before I met them, now I am sure that it was unicorns that I encountered last night.  Sir John turned off his obtrusive beam of light and took me into the pen of his stallion, Rico.  My vision was all silhouettes, shadows and moonbeams!  Rico’s white body shimmered at the edges as it made ghostly love with the moon above.  I felt shy in the presence of this intimidating equine presence.  I reached out and pet his velveteen muzzle.  He exhaled a massive unicorn lung full of warm air and I became at once drunk on its simultaneously animal and vegetable sweetness.  I feel like I need to reiterate this point.  You MUST understand the potency of tasting unicorn exhale!  Unicorn exhale could heal the sick and resigned!  It transcended my finite self and wafted effortlessly into the eternal world of my soul in a single, slippery instant!  And then it was over… but I am still reverberating with the sting of enchantment.

Unicorns burning in the icy light of a half illuminated wily moon!   It does not get any finer than this.  May you bathe today in Grace-drenched, soul-quenching images!

Amen!

Life as a Holy Pilgrimage

Man, I really oughtn’t be drinking a latte right now.  I was already so hyper this morning.  But I couldn’t resist.  Kurt (a follower of this blog), I fell deeper in love with you when you made the effort to clink metaphorical glasses to my stance that cappuccinos are indeed spiritual!  Cappuccinos are one of the most revelatory facets of my existence.  Except right now.  Right now it feels like the devil’s wicked poison, making me manically ecstatic.  My heart is probably beating faster than a hummingbird’s!  And on top of this, it’s a BEAUTIFUL, warm, lucid spring morning.  Well, I’ll do my best to remain poised and heavenly.

I missed writing to You yesterday.  I missed it so much that I had to play hooky from church just to be here with you now.  My day is pretty full, so it was either church or write.  Duh, writing IS my church, when push comes to shove.  And yesterday was my church too.  Doesn’t that sound ridiculous?  The Church of Revelatory Yesterday!  I’m gonna start it!  How deliciously ironical that would be, since the essence of most spiritual teachings are about the “here and now”.  But we are all yesterday junkies… so I bet it would have a relieving appeal.  I will stand up and preach about the perpetual, noble struggle to cling to yesterday in the face of a present moment that keeps trying to distract us and seduce us into the sacrilege of immediacy!  This is brilliant.

I was desperate to write today because my mind is simply overflowing with resplendence.  You know… inspired thoughts.  I want to slosh them gratuitously about the page… and I dare you not to open.  I dare you not to get turned on, inspired, enlivened.  (l LOVE slurping my warm beverages from a spoon!)  So yesterday, Mykael and I hiked from Tennessee Valley to Muir Beach.  For those of you who are not bay area natives, my condolences.  Just kidding.  But it’s a pretty hefty hike.  At least four miles each way.  But tons of steep ups and downs.  Like a metaphoric portrayal of a challenging period of life.  Parts of it wind right along cliffs that drop off to the churning, sullen turquoiser than thou body we know as the Pacific Ocean.  The first half of the hike, from Tennessee Valley to Muir, my mind was agitated.  Mykael was being moody, which made it harder for me to just rest in my own sphere of peace.  Also, I was expecting the temperature to be a lot warmer.  When we got to the beach, it was cold and windy and late.  Frown.  But the way back was worth it all!  We smoked a little pot, and prayed to for physical endurance and plenty of peace and happiness to sustain us the duration of the walk.  As we stood at the edge of the world, a prayin’ and a tokin’, the horizon began to blush like a modest though oversexed bride.  The sky was the softest blue.  A few sleek, patient clouds hovered here and there~ think bashfully melting marshmallows.  We continued to walk.  Smoking dropped me deeper into my body and I fell in love with the hard packed dirt and the heavy, rooted feeling I experienced each time I stepped.  Meanwhile, back in the sky, it began to look like APL (All Pervading Light) spilled Her psychedelic palate.  What a HOLY MESS.  It was all vibrancy.  The sun was a neon orange hole in the sky.  A hole through which the truth of existence as Light could be sneak previewed.  Slowly it oozed down toward the salivating, dramatic horizon of smooth, green, silhouetted cliffs and deepening ocean.  The pale blue of the sky made the whole scene look so gentle, approachable.  And if your eyes were brave enough to meander through the innocent canopy of blue softness, they would have stumbled right over an almost imperceptible sliver of crescent moon!

Every single moment there on the edge of the world was unique.  Every moment was revelation.  I stood, consumed by awe and PRAYED.  I prayed that I could widen myself, allow all this beauty to flood my being so that I could give it away.  I thought of the Rumi quote, “Let the beauty we love be what we do,” and I finally understood it.  Those moments of witnessing such pure grace… they were so WHOLE and COMPLETE.  There was no striving, nothing to figure out.  It was simply the beauty I love.  That is ALL there was to do.  Except, of course busy myself with trying to cram it all into a divine doggy bag, so that I could bring it home to feed to YOU.  And I don’t mean just with these petty words.  I mean with the generosity of my heart.  I mean EVERY WAY.  The thoughts I invite into my mind.  The purity of my actions… the trail of sweet nectar that floods in the wake of my footsteps upon this earth.

Once upon a summer afternoon, E* and I were hiking at Lake Tahoe and it was stunning!  The water was crystalline turquoise.  The sky vast, deep blue.  The air was clean and hot and held the sweet scent of pine and mountain dirt.  The immense granite boulders stood still in perpetual twinkle.  It was another one of those moments that is devastatingly uncontainable.  So we stood at on the tender precipice where past fucks the future wide open in the space called now… and we folded the vivid image.  Then we folded it again.  Then again, and again and once more… till it was small enough to fit in the palm of a standard sized hand… and we both tucked it away in the luxurious, divine privacy of our own souls, so that we could keep it forever.  I still have mine.  I nibble and sip on it every so often.  I would bet you tons of gold and jewels that if you asked E*, he’d indubitably admit to having his nestled in the breast pocket of his own heart to this day.

I didn’t fold up the sunset last night…  But I widened myself and begged for it to become me, me to become it.  And then I walked on, bathing in the blessing that was too big to wrap my head around.  And as I walked, the sky continued to darken, which only vivified the high hanging, dainty slice of moon.  I told you before that every moon is different.  Well the beams that danced off of this one were reminiscent of honeyed jasmine.  Don’t ask me why.  I could almost smell jasmine as I thirstily lapped up the fuzzy, luminous moon breath.  Slowly, shyly, stars began to come out of hiding.  But the BEST part was happening upon a view of San Francisco.  (I just danced in the bathroom again.  I am a good dancer.  I wish I felt like doing it in public… I bet it would be really healthy and fun.  Any day now…)
”San Francisco twinkled

as a sudden spray of effervescent gold,

cast by a hand so large

and Loving.”

That’s what I wrote last night as I marveled at the glimmering, gold lights that logic would have called “San Francisco”.  But REALLY… Was it SF?  For all I know, it really could have been an accidental spill of magic, flaming dust by some drunken, horny angels… Who am I to say?  All I know is the enchantment it sucked to my surface.

And then more walking.  And walking and walking.  Despite all this beauty, my mind threatened to suffer with thoughts of exhaustion and “when are we going to BE THERE?”  I begged it not to.  In order to quiet it, I reminded myself that I had walked all the way across Spain with a heavy backpack on.  (with E*)  We averaged fifteen miles a day.  One day we walked twenty six miles.  Marathon distance.  It was the pilgrimage route, the Camino De Santiago. It took us a month. Then I realized that I could perceive this walk, too, as a pilgrimage.  In that context, walking toward Revelation, toward awakening to the truth of our saturation in LOVE, suddenly I was willing to walk Forever.  I realized that LIFE is but a holy pilgrimage. Which means that every single person is a fellow pilgrim.

I dunno if you’ve ever walked a pilgrimage before… but there is a special comradery among pilgrims.  There is an unspoken bond we all have, sharing a sacred goal.  We have an understanding of what it takes to walk and walk and walk and walk, in the name of touching something holy within ourselves.  Walking through our own fears, limitations, aches and pains, hopes and dreams.  What a beautiful and accurate way to perceive humanity.  We ARE all pilgrims and the road is long and arduous and beautiful.  But it is sweeter when we share our water and our joy along the way.

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