Then, with a breath, I come back to pure waiting. I settle back into the essence of me. I remind myself that LIFE is living me with an exquisite unfolding that is beyond what I can imagine.
After ten years of living a nomadic life, it feels that soon I’ll be stepping into a new season. In this moment, what and where that season will be is a mystery.
I watch the part of me that jumps into making a plan; to somehow orchestrate the ‘perfect’ experience.
I cuddle up with the part of me that wants to know ‘the plan’ because she believes it’s safer to have all the upcoming details of life laid out.
The part of me that packs the parachute, the umbrella and the art supplies is perplexed at how to prepare for the un-preparable.
I watch the part of me that gets captivated by the myriad of juicy possibilities and who doesn’t want to miss out on any of them.
I collide with the idea that to create my experience I must put attention into visioning the specific details of the exact outcome I’d like to experience.
And here, now, my practice is to wait….
To wait until an organic impulse for movement arises; something that is uncontrived; that is fresh and alive.
I wait with one prayer, “May I be absolutely loyal to my unique calling; my Dharma; my Kuleana”
And the glimmer of awareness illuminates this truth. It doesn’t matter where I go. That prayer. That intention. Will guide my next step, and my next step and my next step to some place new called “home”.
