The Journey
In a few minutes, we leave for Florida - a journey I have resisted for months, but which now becomes inevitable despite the gravity of my own Intent in other directions. Sure, I could plant my heels and refuse to go, but for reasons I cannot explain, that does not seem to be what I am guided to do either. So I am wondering what - if anything - this journey is "meant" to teach me, who or what I am destined to encounter along the way, and where this long and winding road is leading.
Having examined my heart thoroughly, I realized long ago that any attachments I may have had to the world of "family" have long since been left in the dust of the nagual. Though I may care about my mother, what I have learned from her long & difficult illness is that I simply do not have the umbilical attachment which a lot of other folks seem to think I "should". Unconditional love is there. Empathy remains high. But I simply do not have the driving need to go to her, nor does she seem to have the driving need for me to be there. And in some ways, this is the part of the warrior's path which scares a lot of wannabes right back into the consensual stream of a lifetime of programming. We want it to be otherwise. We feel we should be compelled to go to the bedside of a dying parent, and yet, I've recently heard from several warriors who have faced similar circumstances that those feelings just aren't there - and that can be so unnerving to some that it could lead to a lifetime of extended therapy. So many times, even warriors think it is different for them or they are somehow exempt from the what-is of being a seer, a warrior, a wo/man of Knowledge. But the bottom line is that when we are true to the path and to our hearts, we begin to discover that the "shoulds" and the prevailing ideas around what we're "supposta" feel are every bit as illusory as anything else. Love can exist without proximity and without guilt. And as my mother told me not too long ago, "We all die alone and it's a boat only big enough for one." Though she would not call herself a warrior, that, to me, is the epitome of a warrior's detachment. We fight our battles alone and when the time comes, we row the boat alone to wherever it may be going.
So... I ask myself again as I am loading the rental car... Why am I going? There is no reason to say "goodbye" to the dying, for whether they evolve or not, they aren't really going "away". They are simply shifting their awareness to another level, which any wo/man of Knowledge can access through gnosis if that is their desire. If they evolve into a singularity of consciousness, then like Schroedinger's cat, they are already dead and alive at the same time. If they don't evolve, then they exist always in this linear span of time known as the Now in which they took on manifestation. Death, too, is illusory, fleeting, altogether misunderstood. So... why am I going?
I have no answers, mainly because this appears to be a situation wherein the scales are precisely balanced. In the eyes of some, perhaps it is "the right way to live" for me to go. In the eyes of others, perhaps it is unimpeccable for me to walk away from my own life responsibilities at a time when all indicators not only suggest, but demand that I be here. No simple choices. And I've had "signs" in both directions.
When we called to confirm reservations on the rental car, we were told the reservations didn't exist despite the fact that we had a confirmation number. After 2 hours on the phone w/ the corporate offices, we were STILL told there was no car for us. It was almost a relief, but since we had to be near the airport that day anyway, we popped into the local office and not only did they HAVE the car... they had a larger car which we got at the same price because they were out of the one we had originally asked for. Signs pointing in both directions, rather like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz.
As in years past, I will attempt to keep a running journal of the excursion, for I can't help but think that this trip in particular is going to be ABOUT the journey rather than the destinations. Florida in August. Maybe my crazy granny was right all along. I'm going to hell after all. :\
Gotta laugh.
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