A friend shared this with me recently, and I’ve watched it several times… Wonderful imagery and a great introduction to Merkabah…
“Just think of how happy you would be if you lost everything you have… and then got it back again.”
Frances Rodman
I simply love it when I start to feel like I’ve lost my track and the synchro-mystery steps in to remind me that all is just as it’s intended to be!
For quite some time now (since October, in fact) I’ve chastised myself for not tending to my blog. An empty draft titled ‘Lost’ has been sitting there waiting for me to find things… namely time and words. Well yesterday I found them both – and why? Because plans to watch the Lost premiere altered my schedule and I had the occasion to sit and stare at my screen uninterrupted. (Even now as I write this I look down to see that it is 1:08 – Dharma’s number!) Leave it to Lost to help me get found… and remind me that the time-line I impose on myself with the word “should”, may have little to do with being right on time…
To continue in the vein of my experiences with striving to unfold states of Union… it ended up to be rather ironic, or maybe somehow perfect, to go from lost (as in, suddenly without our community) to finding our ideal community tucked away in a place called Lost Valley. To add to it, we had decided that our first step was simply to get out from the blanket of winter that was slowly covering over our familiar woods and just rent a place – any place as long as it was warm! We thought we would spend the winter in Eugene and set a new course for community in spring.
The cosmic orchestra had other plans. As it turned out one of the three places we circled was actually a townhouse in an intentional community. And not just any intentional community but the very intentional community we’d corresponded with before moving to Oregon in the hope of becoming members. How is that for the synchro-mystery?
At the time of our correspondence with the community they’d essentially lost their way, if I understood correctly, in something of a collision between the way it had been and the way that was emerging. They were in the process of reorganization – the labor of a chrysalis being refashioned with wings – which happens to be the entirely wrong moment to throw new and unproven ingredients into the admixture. So we’d blazed our own path forward. And now, here we were after all.
The townhouse that was available was phenomenal. Not only was it styled beautifully, in my memory it is radiant… with the shafts of light that filtered through the trees and washed much of the space in a soft golden glow, and also with the presence of the Tibetan Buddhist monks who’d stayed there just before our arrival. It was as close to perfect as I could conceive in that moment. Their gardens; their facilities; their yurt homes; their 80 acres – I was instantly, madly in love with it all. Getting to hear their ideas, their practices, and aims convinced me that I’d found my earthly Heaven. In fact, I went to sleep in my cold bed back in the woods certain that I’d miraculously uncovered the where and the who to which I truly belonged.
Hmmm… Life is curious, isn’t it? If only my foresight was as clear as my hindsight! Then I surely would have realized that my journey was barely beginning… that journeys of any significance are rarely so short and sweet.
An hour before the community dinner we were supposed to attend (to fulfill the next requirement in the process of renting the townhouse) we were in a major car accident coming off one of the I-5 ramps into Eugene. In that moment we’d lost our way and were rushing - trying to find the place with the camping heaters in an unfamiliar part of Eugene; trying to get back to our woods and then to the dinner on-time. Now it is obvious that we were lost and rushing in more ways than one. Now I am thankful for all that has unfolded and transpired to bring me to my present state of understanding…
But then, I wasn’t thankful or conscious of a bigger picture. My skull was significantly fractured, my children horribly frightened, both vehicles totaled. Events quickly necessitated our return to Arizona. And the world seemed like a cruel trick.
Yet what I know now is that often declaring you have found the solution somewhere outside of your Inner Self actually implies you are more lost than ever. It renders “lost” a constant.
And on the other-side of that – often declaring you are lost turns out to mean that you aren’t so lost at all, but merely perceiving the unfolding of time through your own self-imposed limits.
Arizona had many adventures and discoveries in store for me.
