I am at my mom’s, watching my Niece and Nephew through the weekend while she takes care of grandma for me. I got the kids off to school great and the morning was swimming along nicely. I gave the dog some Reiki ’cause he’s been sick and then we started playing. I decided we should take it to the backyard and didn’t stop to grab my phone or put on shoes. We had a lot of fun and he was so playful, I really appreciated that he seemed to be feeling a bit better and was completely caught up in the moment. Not wanting to push him to far though, we went to head back in before long. But instead, we came just shy at the back door. It was locked.
I had forgotten that my mom’s back door has one of those knobs that can turn on the inside when it’s locked. I had locked it last night. I knew this. “Fuck.” Now, had this been May from a couple years ago I would have responded very differently. I would have been tearing myself down, getting more and more upset, and allowing the situation to unnerve me – but this morning I observed myself responding instead of reacting.
I quickly checked my options. Windows, nope. Garage door, nope. And I knew the front was deadbolted because I did that once the kids were off to school. Decided I didn’t want to jump the fence in stocks unless I exhausted all my options in the backyard anyway and well, just sat.
I had felt my pulse quicken, and my chest and throat tighten immediately upon feeling the tension in the doorknob, which had persisted throughout my initial panicked runaround. And as I sat I witnessed my ego’s desperate chatter get even louder, “you told Nikki not to take the bus because you’d pick her up at school so now she won’t even be here in 5 hours with her key because she’s going to be stranded unless you jump that fence and find a phone! And if you can’t James is going to be stranded after bike club too! How could you not have your phone? You are so stupid. You are the worst aunt! I know how much you don’t want to go find a phone in the city in your socks. Is your social anxiety really more important right now? What are you waiting for?!” But I remained.
I sat, I observed, I surrendered. I began to sing different mantras, one known as the “fate erradicator,” another to dispel any egoic intent/fear within myself and still more to bless myself, the situation, the dog and even the home and community. I became calm. I noticed my pulse sooth and my breath deepen. The sun peaked out from behind the cloud and the breeze picked up, and I found my Self in True Love with Life again.
I resumed attempts to get back in the house and found myself at the unused but now unblocked dog door. It is too small and square for me to get through, I had already tried, but I decided to check it out again anyway. As I maneuvered a bit, a long umbrella with a flat-ended foam handle fell on top of me. Within five minutes I had figured out how to maneuver the little lock latch open with the umbrella, it was in fact the perfect tool for this very odd job.
The 30 min of stress/panic were probably unavoidable, but after 20 min of meditation and mantra it took maybe 10 before the problem was solved. Next time I think I’ll try to just skip straight to the energy work!
The house is quiet, only the sound of grandma’s oxygen compressor and the restless shifts of sleeping puppies punctuate the stillness. The overcast sky has overcome midsummer heat and a cool breeze wafts through the open front door, spun about the living room by the ceiling fans, tickling my skin at every bare side. Grandma is feeling well, things are calm, and the energy meanders about on the low end, right between “sleepy siesta” and “reading in a hammock.”
This is my harvest.
I’m not exactly opposed to chaos, in fact, at one time in my life a therapist told me “you can be addicted to anything, even chaos,” in attempt to wake me up to my patterns of poor choices back then. I didn’t get it then, but it’s become obvious as time and life’s lessons have wore on.
I have all the markers of an intelligent person: I cuss, do drugs, stay up late and seek other novel experiences. I travel internationally solo, my #1 bucket list item is “swim with sharks,” and I’ve taken myself far past my own expectations and boundaries again and again. Yet, as of late, all I have wanted is a bit of peace.
Actually, I’ve been craving it, deeply. All my efforts to “full speed ahead” in July were thwarted by reality and I spectacularly failed every last expectation and standard I had idealized for myself at the start of the month. So here I am, beginning a new month and even a new phase of the year’s wheel, hesitant to make another attempt at idealistic grandeur for the upcoming month. Though my intuition and awareness are making it hard not to get excited anyway…
Closing a Chapter
Lammas is a Pagan Sabbat, or holiday, and serves for celebrating harvest as the long days of summer begin to dwindle. There are 4 yearly Sabbats including Lammas (Aug. 1st), Samhain (Oct. 31st), Imbolc (Feb. 1st) and Beltane (May 1st). Each Sabbat falls at a midpoint between the Equinoxes and Solstices, and carries its own seasonal/archetypal energy.
The focus on harvest is an interesting one, because it allows for taking inventory. In this way, Lammas invites us to review what we’ve planted and how we’ve sown those seeds since Beltane. Personally, since May, I feel I’ve been caught in a whirlwind.
So much has happened in just 3 short months and they feel markedly halved. From May through the first half of June I was on dieta, preparing and then participating in a spiritual retreat and largely feeling centered, focused and excited. Mid June through the end of July however, were marked by stress, uncertainty and groundlessness. I am grateful for it all.
Despite my tireless devotion, nothing I did before my retreat was “enough” for me. I felt like I was simultaneously the donkey and the carrot, trying to manipulate my development and attention to the “perfect” degrees in order to activate to upmost potentiality of my spiritual experiences. I struggled to remain in my beingness, fighting my addiction to doership at every angle.
Since my retreat, coming home to grandma being ill, I have been unable to maintain strict control over my experiences, feelings or thoughts, and have largely been caught up in the moments as they’ve happened. I’ve been wading through turbulent waters, barely keeping my head up, let alone maintaining “good form.” Yet, I’ve also still managed to study, write, edit, contribute, encourage, connect, love, meditate, practice yoga, share myself and otherwise be authentically me in spite of it all.
The juxtaposition of these reflections is illuminating.
I’m not going to set standards for my organic spiritual disposition. I am this person who studies astrology, philosophy, yoga and practices meditation, development and awareness – regardless of whether or not I make it a “daily task.” I am a writer, editor, collaborator, contributor, consultant, healer, teacher and coach – regardless of how/when/why these things all get done. I’m not these things because of anything I do, I am these things, period.
This is my harvest: I get to be me. In the stillness and quiet, as well as in the chaos and noise. I am Mayryanna. I am a blessing. I am blessed. All the rest doesn’t matter.
So yes, I’m excited. I’m excited to accept where I’m at, appreciate myself and explore the ever-expanding heights and depths of my consciousness. I will certainly be fighting old habits – for some reason I love planning even more than doing lol – but it’s a lesson I feel fortunate to be learning.
May you all have a blessed, reflective and illuminating harvest as well!
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