Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Rites of Passage
It was a huge experience, it was also no big deal - leaving Quiet Waters, I mean. All signs pointed to go, definitely. For instance I got parking spots RIGHT in front of the chateau as well as Quiet Waters, making the loading of stuff into and out of the zipcar extremely easy. I moved during the commute hour because that's when I could do it, but because this is August, there really wasn't a lot of traffic. I reserved the car for an hour, but it only took 20 minutes to do the whole move. When I parked the zipcar in front of Quiet Waters, it was spitting rain but ten minutes later, unloading stuff in front of the chateau, the sun had come out from behind lovely puffy clouds. This kind of synchronicity is meaningful to me. It's the multiverse's way of telling me I'm right on track with what's supposed to unfold.
Internally, it was a grand Rite of Passage, culminating after much contemplation, prayer, also grinding of teeth and wringing of hands. The move was, in my mind, worthy of a scene in a Cecil B. deMille movie. The clouds, thunder (but no lightning ... ??) and the bouts of rain were definitely cinematic. For me the move was Bigger than Life Size, but to the casual onlooker, it was just some woman tossing sheets and a massage table into a zipcar, no more, no less. Hmmm.
I was thinking yesterday about our Reclaiming public rituals. We didn't allow people to take pictures or videos because we knew that the feeling in the middle of the magic can not be conveyed in two dimensions. A bunch of people in a circle, toning, looking blissed out, their arms lifted to the sky, well, in a picture or video it's really dorky. But if you're a part of the circle, co-creating and experiencing the energy, it is a very beautiful moment.
After the move, I walked around for awhile, took pictures. The cloud people were close to the ground. I felt I could almost jump aboard and take a ride with them. It wasn't too hot. At the moment I made an offering of gratitude to the five winds, a little breeze skipped through my hair, across my face, as if in acknowledgement and acceptance. Wow.
Yesterday was just another Monday to a whole lot of people, but for me it was a great day, formidable, and charmed. Onwards and upwards indeed!
This is the stump leftover from the tree across the street from the house on Tennessee Avenue, a tree I loved so much, that died this spring. What is that hole in the center of the stump? Do trees die from the inside out?