Where is the Ground?

It's interesting how small events can converge, accumulate, or even culminate in causing one to suddenly feel groundless. It's just a lot of uncertainty that seems to blow in on the prevailing winds, the kind of uncertainty that makes you want to grab a hold of something so you don't spiral down too deep into the unknown. So it's all kind of juicy sweet and bitter all at once, this getting familiar with a new unknown, or a new uncertainty--or even an old one that revisits often. These days that groundless feeling manifest itself in my heart. I will suddenly awaken from a nap with a palpitating heart. This is good news because no longer do my fears cause my blood pressure to skyrocket, or cause irritation to the lining of my stomach, or cause me to withdraw into myself and close down. There is something about a heart that beats harder and faster that heightens my awareness to sit up and listen. Time to pay close attention.

This afternoon on the drive home through the backroads I saw a pair of beautiful cream colored horses--one was lying on the ground and the other was standing over her. I had a flashback to another time a couple of years ago when I saw the exact same thing only to learn the next morning that the horse lying on the ground had been shot dead in a drive by shooting. I never told my friends whom I was visiting what I had seen because at the time I had no idea whatsoever that the one horse was dead. It just never occurred to me. But still, I remember having a queasy feeling, and remember asking why the horses hadn't come up to the house, and yet it wasn't that unusual. How could I have known with certainty that the deep queasy feeling might have been because part of me may have sensed that she was dead. The next day when we learned she had been shot I was totally overcome with guilt for not telling my friends what I had seen the day before. Could I have saved her had I said something? I think not. And today's sight caused me to remember all these things, and to notice and realize that the beautiful blonde horse lying on the ground was totally alive and well and just doing what horses frequently do--they just lie down on their sides for a while, enjoying the feel of the dirt, the feel of earth against their body instead of just their hooves. Sometimes my feet cannot feel the ground. Maybe I should go lay down on the ground and see if I regain my sense of foundation, but I know that it is from these moments of uncertainty when we feel groundless that we learn and grow so long as we stay with it and not try to escape from the uncertainty. Sometimes I want to ask for clarification but when you already know that much of life is all about mystery, it's best to just be quiet, and be still. I also know that in the end I will fall down to the ground and never get up again. Of that I am certain. "One of these days, my friend, we all fall down forever." The ground is never that far way.