Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 5 Comments

Shifting Plates

Not that anything is wrong. It’s just that if life were tectonic plates, they’d be shifting underneath me with a bit of a shimmied rumble right now. There’s movement enough that books could be slipping from the shelves. Dishes in the cupboard are a-rattling.

No need for stagnation. Moving and shaking is good. Just a bit disconcerting at times.

And it’s interesting to see how big change can weave through my days and my being, coloring my practices.

I’m sleeping a bit more. Then coming to my writing screen, sometimes, a bit less inspired.

This morning I sit and seek clues. My eyes rest on the sheet of paper called “Movie Recommendations” found in yesterday’s office drawer sorting project. There is a sub-group of titles under the category of the theme “Stepping Out of Doubts and Fears.” My glance lands on the last of the list, “Touching the Void.”

I’ve seen the movie. My situation is not the same, but maybe I’m living my own tamer version of facing the unknown. This morning I reach fingers deep into the soil of me and find layers unidentified. Not necessarily a void, but nothing substantive either. Maybe if I dug deeper more could be felt.

And then all of a sudden, I remember it’s May 29th. That exactly six months ago the Bohemian and I got married. I see that he tackled the pile of dirty silverware in the sink and all is now sparkling in the dish drainer. I am touched. I am touching something.

Underneath moving boxes, budget projections, and math homework, there is an essence quite substantial, and it’s bigger than a name. As a big as a void and somehow connected.

It seems to understand about shifting plates – the ones below the surface and the ones on my shelf. Perhaps it’s the very force that moves them.

This morning there is no more time to think about it. No image to accompany this post. I can’t even seek shelter in a doorway. Time to move about the world while it all quakes beneath me.

Enjoy the ride.

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 3 Comments

Sunshine Elixir

2013-05-28sunrise_palms

Hands poised at the keyboard, I search for the simple.

What few words can convey something worth saying?

This morning I don’t feel like an artful dance to weave a way into the telling. I want potency in a small dosage.

And as I seek and come short, the Bohemian sounds, as if on cue. From his early morning shower, where he must be peering out that little rectangle window looking East, he calls his line.

“Sunrise…”

Ah, of course. I step out to soak in rising light.

Sunshine elixir in a single drop.

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Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 9 Comments

The Whispers

I follow the whispers.

Those, essentially, inaudible prompts that come from Who-Knows. Some say God. Guidance, Grace. The Higher Self.

Higher, lower, I’m somewhere- driving my car down the road, when the whisper comes urging me to turn right instead of going straight. Take a walk on this beach, not that one.

And because my life is currently in a semi-state of flux (we are moving and looking for a new home), and because I’m kind of like a little scientist experimenting (always seeking proof that intuition’s real), and because I have the time on this particular morning, I turn right on to that dirt road that leads to my favorite beach. The one I’ve deemed my temple.

I haven’t been to church lately. This natural cathedral entails a bit of a trek, which takes more time to get there. Time being something that’s seemed tight as of late. But with an extra forty-five minutes on this day, my soles set foot on the path to sacred sand and sea.

It’s not far into the first stretch of empty beach that I see it glowing in the sunlight. A bottle washed ashore, I guess. Though as it rests near the tide line, the shape seems more round than a bottle. And in the case of any treasure found, once I am upon it, there is a gasp, a skipping heart beat. A smile.

“No way!” I say to no one.

A glass fishing float is in my hands, having lapped up from that mystery place of Who-Knows.

This is a rare find.

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Anywhere from forty to a hundred years old, this glass ball unleashed itself from some Japanese fishing net long ago, beginning a journey that bobbed through the Pacific until rolling up on this shore. Now, held in my hands.

It’s not the first time this temple/beach has gifted me a treasured gem. This place has granted me many a precious Sunrise shell (once, three in one morning). On one October afternoon here, a hefty, golden-hued coin embossed with the goddess Lakshmi washed up at my feet. Heck, this is the beach is where I met my husband. And the same place where he, subsequently, proposed.

In each of those instances, when some offering was bestowed upon me, what was it that had positioned me in that very place and time?

It was the whispers.

I’d been following a nudge. A quiet, but clear suggestion.

I would venture to say that these directives are possibly more reliable than a GPS. Certainly, more fun.