Sometimes, lately, I fly through space, after my nightly medical marijuana. At least it feels like that, while I lay in bed waiting for sleep. In my little world, behind my eyes, there is no up, no down, no right or left, no way to navigate and I’m moving very fast, have to make micro adjustments in seconds and I’m not even sure where I’m going.
A few years ago, facing death intimately from Stage IV Kidney Cancer, I wrote that I felt my connection to life itself was a thread, like a tether. To die, all I needed to do was to let go. Easy, just slip away.
Cat Stevens has a song about this, in a way. In “I was born in Babylon”, he sings about people who “let go the rope of God, for a handful of gold.” Hmm… I perk up with the idea of “the rope of god”. Never heard that one before, it shimmers. Richard Thompson, Cat’s friend and fantastic musician, has a song called “My Rock, My Rope”. More hmmm… He sings “In my loss and in my sorrow, is my rock, my rope. In my cloud of illusion, give some way I can steer through the shoals and the shipwrecks, till I see my way is clear”. Steering is on my mind now.
How do I navigate what I suspect is very like the territory we enter after death? Is prayer or faith all we need? But faith in what? I like the idea of the rope of God, crossing that abyss, holding on for dear life, or dear death. But what is my destination? In Buddhism, there are so many, primarily the Blissful Realm where ordinary folks like me can go. Even saying the name, I read, “It’s like a rope that we can hold on to while we are climbing a mountain, that pulls us up when we are in danger of falling; it save us.” Christianity teaches about heaven or hell, with some variations. Nature has other ideas. Do we choose? Earn? Stumble into? Who or what decides? Does any of this even fucking matter?
William Stafford and poet laureate some years ago wrote his poem The Way It Is. “There’s a thread you follow. You have to explain about the thread. But it is hard for others to see. While you hold it you can’t get lost…” Robert Bly, another poet, suggests that there is a little spark of light given off by the end of that thread. Might help. Still they were in the realm of Life, not death. I seem to be in-between at times, practicing maybe.
When David, my beloved companion, died in 1980 at 27, he left his body through the top of his head, the crown chakra. He was radiant, and said that he could see the light all around him. What if, instead, we leave through our heart channel? Does that impact our destination? And if so, how?
So many questions on a practical level, and no way to know. A friend says all you need to do is to surrender. Sure, I’m good with that. But surrender into what? Well, trust. I don’t trust easily, and my question remains: trust what?
What I want is to merge into the Heart of God, in harmony with the universe. I think I’m falling far short, but I can ask! I will give Rumi a word here: “Let yourself be drawn by the stronger pull of that which you truly love.”
I do trust the portal through which pours Love, with a capitol L. I have already been blessed by that. I named this blog after that: Shimmering Grace. Oh! Maybe I can simply ride that current back to the Source, holding on to the rope I already know.
Whew! My whole body beams Yes! Finally. So simple, usually a sign of truth.
Meanwhile, I’m flying at night and it’s slowly getting to be fun.
Shimmering Grace 