On this beautiful Native Summer day in late October, waiting not so patiently for a season change it will be 93 on the thermometer today, although it dipped down in the 60’s and it was a lovely feeling as I opened the garage door and felt it embrace me. It’s our daily rise to shine morning, the Buzz and I . We explore each more, with everyday, turning down streets and greeting our fellow travelers. As I walk, I find inspiration in every sight, the hummingbirds who follow us, the huge butterflies and the crows the size of Buzz. The ants are big in these parts and they’re busy creating.
I find myself in the spiritual flow, this is what I refer to as the spiritual dance. It is a glorious moment a gentle ballroom dance and the path had expanded before me into this ornate ballroom and I feel so alive. It’s a treatment of pure holistic heaven, the moments I’m aware I can’t hold onto and yet as quickly as I do the head and heart turn to reflection, the dance is now more of a break dance. I’m not going to shake it off and pretend it’s not happening lets follow this through.
For whatever reason I am back to remembering an adolescent hurt, what triggers these feelings are always a puzzle to me and instead of slamming my mind shut and saying nonsense that doesn’t matter anymore, I know the ballroom is still under my feet. The trick is simply finding out the impetus to this feeling. The beautiful thing is this, there is no pain attached to it as in the past. When I was younger, I was made fun of for the way I looked, it was always puzzling to me and yet, I never went home and told my parents of these painful words or critique of my looks. I think even then I was concerned with how it may hurt my parents. I don’t recall my Mother ever sharing about her being mistreated by her appearance. I do know my Father was and I look exactly like him. Plus, in my eyes, my perception is all about disregarding, than looking at it, regardless, it always penetrates the surface.
The truth of matter is this; I usually retaliated in kind, not always with the people who wounded me, it was sometimes at the cost of an innocent and that will always pierce my armor, that I intentionally harmed another in the precise form as I was damaged. Decades later, I would be at lunch with my sister, her and I, at a favorite restaurant. Enjoying our sister time. As we left I noticed these two women, my age. I would have to be in my late thirties at the time. They were pointing and taunting me and making faces. I can recall it stung then. Especially, when I realized these were women I attended school with, I proceeded home and told C about it, he was confused by the whole experience, I know to this day what the meaning of “we will love you until you can love yourself” Certainly he did that for me. It’s a covenant, our treaty with this power greater than I.
In the midst of the pirouette this morning, I just glided into it, I felt a release and I felt myself engaged with a new partner, the creator, I am firmly on his feet like when I was young with my Dad, and I felt myself laughing and at one in the experience. It’s clear to me these days even over a decade later as I browse through social media and watch the words of others, you can either build esteem or you can tear it down, there is no trick to that, it is clearly the awakening of spirit, do I want to treat others how I want to be treated? Or is it really about expressing myself as my creator does to me…A sweet soulful caress of words, actions and belief.