Soul Journey

I spent much of last fall and this winter in a state of existence moving between hibernation, torpor, and wakefulness, and I have had very little contact with the world beyond my own. An exception to my inward focus has been my participation in a weekly writing group, and that gathering always nourishes my spirit.  

The topic of this series has been Soul Journey, and tonight's subject was about the moment one says yes to their soul's particular journey. I have been thinking about this for quite some time, as my life has shifted significantly over the past 13 months, and I am often in awe of the changes. 

No one moment, no round-headed pin on the map, no single enlightened conversation brought me to the point of commitment to the road I am traveling. I have walked so far, through so many different landscapes, dark beneath the weeping willows, bright atop the mountains, but it has only ever been a journey made by moving one step at a time.

Distance and time have no real meaning to me anymore. Years of struggle, years of therapy, years of work. Tears of pain. Sometimes I would bargain with my demons and myself to get through a day or a mile or the longest nights. Just get through this meeting. Just get through this day. Just walk to the next bench, then the next one. Just swim this lap. Run this water mile. Ten more steps. Ten more minutes. Five. Just make it five minutes without leaving this place, and then you can think about it again if you need to.

I say yes to this journey every morning that I wake and then a thousand times a day, and I do so gladly and joyfully. Every time I get out of bed, every food and water dish I fill, everything I plant and plan, everything I harvest, every bee I talk to, bear I observe, coyote that sings me to sleep. “Mother, keep me mindful…Give me your work, which is to be joyous and to tend all things because all things live of themselves and with your spirit. Your will through mine, So mote it be.”

The conversations with myself, my spirit, my heart, and my brain have changed now. I have no more thoughts of leaving because I am already gone from where it matters most. Where it now matters least. 

Now, the most adorable love cats in the world to talk with. Now, the wild pup who is my homestead work partner. Now, the chickens with their nonsense and demands. Now, the land spirits with their whimsical humor. Now, the divine who never left me, even when I blinded myself to her presence. Now, the life partner whose own fractures never keep him from being the rock I can lean against when I have need.

Now, I am home.