Sunday, October 22, 2006
I whisper a sweet nothing to myself. I am alone in my world. The transformation resulting in my past visions comes to manifest. Its not always easy. Dream of a new life, and you may just get it. Prepare to die from your old life. No, you might bring some of it along with you. But it is good to look everything over during a transitional time. What to keep, what to throw away? Some things are missed, like old friends that I still stay in contact with via long distance telephone calls. You see, the new life is far away. Its only been three months since I've arrived. I've changed everything since the old life. I have a new place to live, quieter, more spacious like I envisioned. I have a new car (truck) which I didn't envision very specifically. If I had been specific, I would have been prepared when the old car died. But the truck is nice. I have other new things that I envisioned too. I have a new job also, which I didn't envision. In some ways it is the perfect job for me. In other ways it is not utilizing my highest spiritual potential. I sought a job out of necessity, as most everyone does, I think. It is Sunday night as I write. I anticipate another work week. I pray for it to be happy and harmonious. I don't want to think about how hard it might be. In general I am prepared to just stay centered and have compassion for everyone I come in contact with. But I have my weaknesses.
I am inspired by my tiredness and suffering. How else can I respond? I've only vegetated all weekend, resting up for what's to come. My heart and soul feels a little dry and arid. Looking out at the sky this afternoon, I shaded my eyes for hours while the sun sunk to the west. As it dipped down below the trees on the horizon the wind picked up. The birds increased their chirping and prepared for bed, as I have witness now for several Sedona sunsets. I lay my sweater across me. I sit up and open my eyes wide as the light vacates to less brilliant hues. I take that moment to reflect upon how I have spent the past several hours, just sitting in a chair, on a deck, part of a remote home somewhere in Arizona. The air is clear and cool. My heart, in those past few hours, sitting and watching, - breathing and simply practicing some Tibetan meditation technique call Tonglin, or getting tired of that I just simply note my in breath or out breath, like a novice Vipassana student - my heart, I reflect upon, is briefly, ever so briefly, touched by eternity. And I realize, like what Thomas Moore would say, that is what I need. I need my soul to be nourished, touched by eternity each day.