s'envoler
“Butterflies are but flowers that blew away one sunny day when Nature was feeling at her most inventive and fertile.”
Driving Spirits of the Dead.
I've woken at 2am for the past five days. My guides are calling me. Sleep will not release me from the suffering. Food isn't soothing. My throat hurts; I spoke too long with my sister and my esophagus is sore. Silence is my only release. I do not feel fatigued; I am more awake at this moment than I've ever been.
Yama is the Lord of Death; He receives the deceased and separates people from the vitality of the living. Fear and mental disturbance take hold of the mind. To bring into balance is to fast, pray, and meditate.
I am doing all these activities and still wake up and will not sleep!
My dreams were of my two favorite A-named persons: Amanda and Aberrahmane. The texture of the dream is dark, wet, cold, and lonely. I am with them and yet feel unattended. Nothing anyone says or does can relieve my despair.
It is like being on a long bus ride in the dark; I cannot see where I am headed and must trust the driver.
I am still struggling against God with my will!
I've projected my heart onto others in an effort to stave off this sensation of being empty since I was small. And what will fill me up? Physical touch is what I crave, or is it? Food is not interesting to me. I've been drinking strong espresso in the early hours and ginger tea past noon. Warm water with honey when the sun disappears. My hunger is like an eagle circling slowly overhead.
In my dream, Amanda and I were on different sides of the same story. As we always are. We tend to wind up on different roads, walking side by side. It pains me to know that she is other. I want her to be my sister again!
Amanda was the only warm thing in my dream. She was dry. I was soaked and heavy. Abderrahmane was also wet- because of me.
He showed up for you; he rode his bike in the rain for you. He is here for you.
He was in a white tank top with his hair soaked and covering his face, as usual. Under an awning with his bike, he had his arms wide and leaned back.
His appearance was out of duty, not out of love, desire, or to see me. He did the things because he felt he had to because he said he would. Because he made a promise.
I do not want that.
I was in the car with Amanda and we got into a big fight. We were in a taxi and the driver did not speak English. The ride cost $120 and I paid with my credit card. Amanda had her hiking bags. I had nothing. I lost all of my personal and physical belongings.
We are just going for a week, she said. You are invited.
I cannot come; look at me! That was my response.
The taxi stopped in the middle of the street and we looked into each other's eyes. It was her time to get out of the car. We hugged. I hate her and love her so much. It is their time to move and my time to be still. I can feel the sensation in my body of stillness creeping in, like the hanging plants on the wall. Moving slightly to adjust with the sun, though reclined in those little pots that do not change their location.
It is my time to hang.
Yama is the restrainer and also a propeller of Dharma. I've been thinking about Dharma a lot and how I have moved away from mine in search of love! I am off track and feel the wheels edging back toward the previously set grooves. Before me, not by me. Something much stronger cut the paths in the stone. And I must follow.
Obedience is not a face I choose to wear often. I'd rather turn the circle around and around until I understand its shape before I accept that it is round!
I've been sleeping facing the East. Spiritual Awakening. Inner Resilience. A movement toward the Divine.
I did two yoga nidra classes before bed to the ground and felt my body pulsing, my spirit throbbing closer and closer to the surface. It wants to get out and I must hold it in. There is nowhere for it to go if it leaves me! Stay with me! I want to scream at it. Why does everyone leave me?
In the meditation, I discovered my sacral chakra's vibrancy for the first time. Whenever I visualize, I can see the glowing orbs and chakras situated along my spine. Yesterday, I saw three yellow rings extending from my pelvis, moving from the inside to the outside. Wide wings of a butterfly propelled from my hip bones. The light sparkled and shattered. Each orb was its own constellation. The radiance moved in the three separate circles and connected at the sacral chakra, Svhadisthana.
The creative force of Saraswati is awake in my body!
I lay and breathed into myself for an hour. I watched and felt the light move within and all around my being. It tickled. It had a very smooth and silky texture. It responded to my heartbeat. I can often feel my heart beating at my navel if I focus there.
I felt warm and content in my body for that time, though I was fully consious, in that lucid state!
As this inner state is realized, I do not know what to do with myself. This is where habits are so important. Nourishing. I went for a long walk in the dark before I reclined for the Nidra classes and explored the stone caverns in the shadows. By day, children play at the mouth. A bridal party posed before the sweeping stairs, their pink and white trains collecting the grime from thousands of feet falling to that path.
It was empty when I appeared and I stood at the center of the collection of rocks and looked up at the ruins. How many people have turned their faces toward God and sought answers they could feel but not discern?
Simone, I need you right now. I do not know what to do with myself; it hurts me physically. Without sleep or craving for food or the physical bond of humanity, I am afraid I will lose the context of what I am!
I have said so many things that I now understand. I've been uttering incantations that are now coming to fruition. Something mysterious is occurring and I have welcomed it. We are given what we ask for; the universe provides.
Whatever is rousing me from my unconscious slumber at 2am is trying to tell me something. Fill my body with what you know! I am ready and willing. I've emptied myself of all matter. What I consume is breath by breath. What I exchange is through the wooden beams upholding the roof of this abode! Porous am I, permeable as the infrastructure that shelters me.
I chose this. I dreamt this before it appeared. I created these conditions.
My poetry showed me this room before I arrived. I've dusted myself with informal prayers, chanting to a shifting image.
The sun is slowly rotating around the Milky Way. The Earth spins. The moon disappears and returns.
My inner constellation is moving at a greater speed and will collide with the outer world when I am ready to deal with the consequences. For now, I have my pretty dream world. I reconciled with my sister. I slept alone in the rain. I saw him waiting for me and realized this was not the outcome I wanted.
Longing is what causes force; it is what informs the world we create.
All this time, I thought my hunger was for material things. Physical bonds. Food. This hot cup of coffee is in my hand. A taste of what I called home from a spiritual soul mate.
I do not desire recognition. I do not desire fame, wealth, or security. I desire to be seen! No one will fully SEE me until I perceive my true self.
In Elizabeth Haish's novel, the fall occurs when she receives the lustful kiss of the man she loves. Human love takes her away from Godly love and she is entombed for three thousand years. Haish does not directly call it a punishment for her sins, though that is the inclination.
My need for physical love has aided me in self-reflection. Every encounter, every lover I've experienced has shown me another brilliant face of the diamond I am!
Yama visits me when the veil is thinnest. Willing me to open and listen to the messages.
Self-restraint. Dharma. Time. Responsibility. Conservation of Material Resources. Karma. Kali.
Photo source.
