Saturday, April 6, 2013

God so close that I can't tell

Dead tired and disappointed at that. That was not the plan for today. I'd imagined basking in the afterglow of hosting my first Turtlebox class in my studio and outside of offering it among Quakers.

I also declared that I would be happy no matter who did or did not show.

So, I'm happily dead tired. It's been a busy week – what's different about that? my spouse prodded – and not only because of commitments, but big breakthroughs.

Yesterday was, indeed, a prayerful day; one that I sailed through, even if busily. I cleaned and re-arranged my studio to accommodate adults, not my usual Artsy Fartsy suspects. I opened up the circle in the meditation area, laid cloths on the work tables, arranged the gorgeous spring flowers my husband brought me, printed door signs, receipts and handouts, then ran through my plan one more time and called it a day at 5:15. Time to run home, grab dinner and return at 6:30. I'd left more than normal for the day of class because I deemed Wednesday a play day.

Wednesday was my monthly shaman visit; one I desperately needed after a major, body-altering chiropractic adjustment three weeks prior. I couldn't wait to let Gary finish what my adjustment had opened or, at least, relieve some of the tightness.

"I said my body wanted to move and it did," I explained of the adjustment. "And then it tightened and has really been painful." Gary confirmed what I had intuited: that my body was rebelling against the new pattern, returning to the old, but then being retrained, which was the painful part. "Half a step backward to get two steps ahead?" I offered. Yeah, he responded.

He always wants to know what my intention is, so I'd decided on the ride to his sanctuary that it was to continue to let my spine unwind ... from the car accident 15 years ago ... and into the new pattern the chiropractor helped re-set.

I always sink into his table. Not long after, as he was kneading my shoulders and stretching my arms, I blurted out that I felt like a baby. I don't often talk during the bodywork, preferring to receive and enjoy. "I think you have some birth trauma," he answered. No sooner off his lips, then I had a flash of memory and intense sadness for both me and my mother. She always said the docs knocked her out to birth her twins and I hadn't thought much of it, really thinking her memory was faulty. They didn't really knock birthing mothers out, did they? I always wondered. She told the truth, according to my memory. I entered the world, expecting a warm motherly welcome and there was none. My mother was not present. OMG, no wonder I have been searching my whole life to be recognized. Then, my heart felt it would burst out of sadness for what she had missed. Words fail to accurately describe the experience of having your newborn thrust into your arms as she connects to your voice and you sense it is a familiar one to her ... as if she has been waiting.

There's more: Before I could sink too deeply into sorrow, a wave of deep and complete happiness struck when I understood what did greet me: God/dess. She had me tightly wrapped in her palm. With the three fingers (yods, which translated from the Hebrew mean fingers of God) that my astrological birth chart shows and I learned about a few weeks ago during a birthday reading. A yod is rare, the astrologer had said, and you have three.

It's like God has been so close that I couldn't tell it. You know, like the story of the person who complains there is only one set of prints in the sand and God responds "that's when I carried you."

After I took this photo, looking at in on my camera, I recognized this as the place in my dreams years ago that I would create ... the dream Spirit planted in my heart. This is my Turtlebox Studio.
That revelation led me to recommit to my Turtlebox work no matter what: if no one came, people weren't interested or it was a total bust. As the work God calls me to, the earthly outcome doesn't matter. What matters is that I surrender to it and letting those three fingers guide me.

Of course, it was richly meaningful last night – for me, but I think also for the two who attended. They plan to return and were good sports to delve deeply into something somewhat risky, counter-cultural and not always comfortable. The reward for them was chocolate. Mine is peace.

• When was the last time a series of tasks was prayerful?
• Where was I spiritually?
• When have I been privy to opening and revelation?
• How had I been primed?
• How have I been transformed?

the thing holding me
up all of these years,

that I had begun to
view as artifice

wasn't me at all
nor was it disease
or something to fight

I was too close
to tell

that it was supreme
support, divine

that has been guiding me

and into which I must
attempt to surrender 

Listen to this post:

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