Sunday, October 25, 2009

Water

rain.

i've been praying outside for ten minutes each day. i usually go out at night, the time not presenting itself readily during the day.

tonight, grieving the dog, i felt the impulse to step off the porch and put my hand on the earth. on the way down the steps, the impulse shifted to touching the earth where the dog is buried, under the little magnolia we planted for him. once there, an impulse not only to touch the earth with my hand, but to kneel on it, lie on the cold, rain-soaked grass (in my warm, dry, cozy pyjamas). felt the cold water soaking into my pyjamas, the rain beginning to fall harder on my face, my hands. the water under the tree a little frightening, the way dark reflections can be. i looked in when i felt called to, saw only a silhouette of a figure looking out at me - another part of creation, i knew, another part of me, as we are all part of this whole. a person from another place, perhaps another time, another era, this being observing me in the water under it's tree.

gave thanks for the reminder, the understanding that we are all one and the same thing, in the end. began to ascend the steps to go inside, wanting to dry and change and get in my bed, but knew that i wasn't done with my learning yet for tonight. walked back down the steps and to the tree, lay on my side on the earth, then flat on my back. cold, cold water, cold air. rested my hand beyond my head, in the puddle under the tree. felt the raindrops, the quick shivering of my body, the icy water about my hand. then i gave in, remembered how to let go of my striving - striving to be warm, to be dry, to be elsewhere - and just swallowed this experience of being under the tree in the dark, wet night. the shivering stopped, the icy water surrounding my hand became not a discomfort but simply a sensation to be experienced, and i felt entirely peaceful. i saw with new eyes - the eyes that can comprehend the interconnections, that sees that we all live this life believing ourselves to be separate from one another, but that we all pass through the veil upon our bodily death and recover our knowing that we are all part of one. this is the supreme peace that is spoken of during "near death" experiences, is it not? this peace, when we return to the arms of creation and know our place there.

a fellow on the playground the other day said, on speaking of children's understanding of the world, "you're another me."

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