quickenings

Not much really, just a tiny noticing this morning, as I sat to catch up with some necessary correspondence (and of course I realize once again that it is the process of writing…writing anything at all, it seems… that always seems to put me in touch with what lies beneath). Though the feeling remains the same, that of bobbing quietly and without purpose on the surface, and though I still seem to be uninspired to take the plunge and swim around down there, there are occasional glimmering moments of reminder that it waits for me.  Reminders that it holds me, tethers me in fact.

Re-minders, being re-minded.  It is then about my mind, I suppose, and where I am choosing, or not, to place its attention. Of course then there is that other, similar word, ‘remember’… re-member.  All the members of myself being called to be present in one place. Here. Now. And that’s the thing about the bobbing, I suppose, the spread out, spread thin feeling of it, the stretched out distance between my depths and this drifting along the surface…..between my heart and mind.

Filling out one of those ‘silly’ facebook surveys…  100 books you’ve read, 25 things about you, or this particular one, ‘the 3’s of you’ … I notice the quietness of my life. Nothing in particular I am attached to, past or present,  or looking forward to, yet instead of seeing this as lack, I choose to embrace it as fullness, or at the very least as ‘what is’. Ah… I see!…. the judgment has departed.

What am I looking forward to then? My responses, simple, contented,  included ‘long walks in the woods’, ‘reading a good book’, and ‘retreats with good friends’.  However, most telling  was my response to the question posed,’ 3 things ALWAYS by my side’.  Without thought, my response was something akin to what might be said as ‘God’ in certain theological dialects…… that ‘something Sacred’ at my side, always Present,  Love.

I don’t know if I’d ‘known’ before this that this is so True, so always, for me that it rises involuntarily, without thought, the way another might unthinkingly respond, ‘my morning coffee’ or ‘my reading glasses’ (I hadn’t even looked at the question that way) Perhaps it was the word ALWAYS, in caps like that, that brought it forth, this easy awareness that IT is always there.  I am always accompanied. IT never leaves me. Nor is it absent my awareness. I know IT on some level, and when I pause to listen I hear IT clearly.

I had a similar ‘aha’ last winter when I began playing with color on my page and I found it suddenly almost completely filled with purple, surprising me.  Spots of green, a little red, but overwhelmingly purple. I hadn’t known it then either, that overwhelming and abiding Presence accompanying me.

Now I wonder how it is that I can imagine myself to be so ‘un’ (it’s the only word that fits) when it seems I am ‘so’ (okay there IS no word for this!).  After all, I am bobbing along…..supported by the OCEAN ITSELF for goodness sake.  

Its just been so quiet, that’s all. Quiet, in a good way perhaps.  Not in a lost way (who is really quiet inside when they realize that they’re lost anyway) , not in a totally empty way either. Could it be… quiet in a full way? in an unneedful way? in a peaceful way?  No noise here bobbing along in the middle of the ocean.

Still.

Still, there is music…the language , the words, the sounds…. of Love that I’ve missed in all this silence. I’ve missed hearing IT in this Great Silence. Last month, reading poetry to my granddaughter, the words felt like mere words, as if they were untethered, unattached to the meaning they so strove to convey, and I wondered where my heart had gone. Likely the same place as my mind, or maybe there was just too much distance stretched between them.

This weekend, I attended the wedding of a friend where Words of Love, sacred words, beloved words washed over me, bathing me and I was swept underwater for a moment. Suddenly I recalled how much I love being underwater. I love how the sound of the ocean in my ears pulses with the rhythm of my heart. I was reminded how much more deeply I could breathe down here, great, lasting breaths, as if I am in fact an ancient fish after all. ( I have read that a sea turtle can hold its breath for 5 hours )

I am reminded that I once wrote a poem about a fish, (click here, if you’d like to read it)

https://emmaatlast.wordpress.com/category/poetry/one-voice-crying/

and recall her longing for the ones who speak her language. This is interesting to me, because that was so powerfully the feeling at the wedding, that here are ones who speak my language, as starhawk notes, ‘without the words catching in my throat’…. on the way up or down, I’d add to that. Nothing hard to swallow, rather satisfying, delectable, filling nourishment.  

 I realize I need to hear music like this, poetry like this, to be ‘reminded’ that I am not alone, that I have come to the right place. This IS the place where words like this are sung.  This is the reason I began reading poetry to my granddaughter after all, to reassure her that she too has come to the right place, the place where we intone sounds such as these.

I ponder those creation stories where life is sung into being, and I believe they are True, for something in me has been stirred to life, again.  Silence is good, very good in fact, but sound is somehow vital, vibration is essential to Life.  Words are expressions of our humanity, of our mutual longing to commune, and music outers feelings too deep for even them.

I feel the tug on the bobber. Is it a Great Fish, or Grandmother Turtle, pulling me deep, back into the great womb?  I feel the quickening of life in me, conceived by a Love Song.

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