How often it is that I have to remember to just slow down, stop and pay attention to life as it unfolds. I felt drawn to a young man who is a licensed masseur when he asked me at the car wash if I wanted a chair massage. I said no, then something compelled me to say yes. His hands were healing and therapeutic. His spirit bright and energizing. I ended up taking his card and have had several deep tissue massage sessions with him. Yesterday after my first sports massage with him, we were sitting at his kitchen table eating tangerines, discovering those threads of connection and trust, moving into those first moments when you feel so at ease and bonded with someone new. He began sharing and telling me about the path he was following, the path of his heart, a path deeply connected to nature, and how it was leading him (and his girlfriend) down a very fulfilling and rewarding road, that doorways to discovery were happening for him, he was learning what touched him and made him feel in tune, and what made him feel free from dis-ease. Suddenly a door to the bedroom opened, and I looked to see his girlfriend walk through, but she didn't. A moment of complete silence. Apparently the wind very gently and noiselessly blew open the door just a few feet away. It was kind of eerie. It was kind of magical. Nothing superstitious, just one of those little moments where you feel that nature is answering back to you, confirming what you've just said. Good energy flowing. The cast of illumination.
I'm driving a friend to Kerrville this morning to visit his father who's in the hospital there. He's 83 years old and was in a pretty bad car wreck in which his car was totalled and he had to be pulled from the wreckage. For unknown reasons, an ambulance wasn't called, so he was not examined by doctors or paramedics, the cops simply drove him home after the accident. After arriving home he called his insurance company, and while on the phone he collapsed and fell to the floor, shattering his hip. So now he is confined, for at least 6 weeks, to a rehab center, unable to walk. The doctor has told him his fall had nothing to do with the car accident, which pretty much cancels out any compensation from the other driver's insurance.
Something strangely unpleasant and unusual is going on in my lower intestines this morning. Yesterday I dug up the crowded clumps of Irises in the Zen garden and separated the bulbs and replanted the new growths and discarded the old and rotting portions of the shallow underground root/bulb system that really should be done every 2 to 3 years. I love the feel and smell of earth, digging into the soil with bare hands. A google search answered my questions about Iris bulbs, and also said that the old, rotting bulbs should not be placed in the compost pile. When I snagged a fingernail whilst digging I automatically brought it to my mouth and immediately realized I probably should not have done that. There must be some chemical in the bulbs that is toxic, I don't know. Maybe that's why my lower belly is growling and misbehaving this morning. Another message from Mother Nature? Vata out of balance?
I received a very nice email from my massage therapist in which he asked if he could possibly practice some newly learned light energy healing on me. Of course I said yes, then read a little about energy healing in the Shamanic traditions. I was immediately struck by the word luminosity, and balanced chakras. After my sports massage J mentioned that the techniques he employed were motions that moved the blood back towards the heart, and also released many toxins.
I was reading from a blog I follow in which the blogger posted a quote from Jack Kornfield's "A Path With Heart". It was a quote I had underlined and put an asterisk by in my copy of the book. It struck me as very relevant to recent experiences. Page 158, first paragraph, begins "Initially, in our enthusiasm for our practice, we tend to take everything we hear or read as the gospel truth. This attitude often becomes even stronger when we join a community, follow a teacher, undertake a discipline. Yet all of the teachings of books, maps, and beliefs have little to do with wisdom or compassion. At best they are a signpost, a finger pointing at the moon, or the leftover dialogue from a time when someone received some true spiritual nourishment. To make spiritual practice come alive, we must discover within ourselves our own way to become conscious, to live a life of the spirit."
All the little connections can leave the mind reeling. Maybe that's why it's best to try and tell the mind to just leave things alone, and slow down, stop, and just pay attention with the heart.
