A stirring conversation with a best girlfriend, a bitch session that went rogue into soul searching. And still I declined the celestial call that stayed on hold.
We spoke of rich times,
of poor times,
of 'more' times,
and 'no more' times.
We spoke of being humbled quite by force. Our sins realized in the 'Aha!' of despair. Then the peace that pervades your ego bruised soul after that realization, much like your favorite robe on the morning after the heat has broken in your house.
And still I turned away, pretending to forget an appointment that was long overdue. But He would not stop calling. And I found my face tear soaked, staring up at God who resides somewhere beyond the milky ceiling over my bed.
God who waited patiently for me to break just a bit more, until there was no solace but He.
I cried.
I prayed.
I repented.
I heaved with sadness over the spoils of self, flesh, love, and life.
Somehow I realized it doesn't matter who else should be humbled, for those soul walks should be restricted to you and God only. That footpath you take with him through the forest of your earthly existence isn't wide enough for more than that and don't fear that walk for if it should narrow or present with precipice and harrow; you will be carried.
Then a human hunt for peace ensued, I opened my front door to the sacred darkness that sits over the land at 3AM, to a sky that only a fresh unseen night can bring.
I walked barefoot on the man made sidewalk and gazed at the inky wild mountain due east. I searched for the moon, like one who cannot see, for I knew not where it stood with me at all.
I expanded and took in true air and sat on my stoop and prayed to God who resides somewhere in the bubble of nothingness above my development. Then he spoke inside me, in my chest, where my borrowed lightening beats. And he simply said:
'You must sleep.
Lay it here in the grass, all that troubles you.
Leave it to the dew of day come.
Go into the house I gave you.
Lay in the bed I made you...
and sleep.
I promise it dreamless and deep.
Go now child, I've got this.
It is now you need to release.
Tomorrow will be what it will be-
Or it will not...
But I am already there
Waiting for you.'
The nightmare depression and crying released their grip, and I could begin again.
“I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go" Abraham Lincoln
Namaste
