[The following is the 100th post here in the Archives and the third installment in the series Excerpts from the Coastal Dwelling.”]

By Day 3 and 4 in my feel-good place, I was certainly more in touch with the feel-good.  I’d overcome resistance.  Had grooved and was moved in the Dance Church.  I’d ventured into the Rise Up Singing! class and harmonized a gospel tune with twenty other singers.  I’d had a cleansing cry with my workshop facilitator, confessing I was mending a broken heart.  And of course, my daily soaking rituals were dissolving layers in ways that only hydrotherapy can do.

So by Day 4, I’d quieted down into a soft hum.  I could sit in the meditation hut for 30 minutes of silence without struggle.  Calm seemed to seamlessly transition from the hut’s round purple pillow out the door into my day.  My mind was clear.  My heart open.

As I walked along the seacliff, an old spiritual of which I only knew some of the words, would surface and lilt through my throat to the salt air.

Swing low, sweet chariot
coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
coming for to carry me home

The song somehow soothed me.  And I was truly home.  In the midst of such external beauty, yes, it was my idyllic abode.  Big forest trees, ocean, mossy rocks, succulents and cascading waterfalls to the sea.  Steaming springs that bubbled forth from the earth.  But it was on the inside that I felt that resting place of ease.  Connected with my truest self – my own chariot – I was home.

In this heightened state of openness – porosity, if you will – the landscape seeped through me.  The rich, wet path along the river was, in essence, my very own heart.  The landmarks I’d been making peace with were more than just a backdrop to the love story of the Rocket Scientist and I.

my love for him is enmeshed in the sound of that river flowing.  He is in the water and the bowing cedar trees.  Our love is grounded in this place.  The trees sing of him, the paths hold the story of our connection, the rocks and lawns tell of the sweetness we found in Love, with each other. This Love is housed in my physical body- my very cells.  The land knows.  It reminds me.

Walking out of the meditation hut on Day 4, I realized that there was no extracting him from the wind in those big trees.  And I did not want to anymore.  The breeze was no longer bittersweet.  What blew through the branches that whispered of him, more deeply held the essence of Love itself.  Love that was shared between a man and a woman but was a reflection of my own heart.  A gateway to a Love more vast than anything that could ever be ‘mine’, yet all that I ever was.

photo by Jessica Dofflemyer - all rights reserved

shine your light
you don’t have to let go of that sweet essence
the connection you made
was your own true Beloved
full and rich with open heart
you stumbled forward
arms outstretched
to touch the grace
in wonder

the essence is alive in you
through you
it’s what
and always will be

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