Lately I have felt so frustrated at my lack of feeling grounded, my impatience with the journey, my dissatisfaction with being here, now. But what if I reflect on previous hard times, and the time it took to cycle into the next phase, the gratitude I felt after having suffered for so long, to find such immense joy, and the times that I’ve felt God’s presence? Why not take that into this moment, and feel God’s presence here? God is always here. This time now is painful, but it’s also beautiful. It has allowed me to pause what I was doing before and reflect on what’s really important in life, and to appreciate what’s here, the everyday miracles found in nature. Seasons change, which always feels sad to me, but there’s a beauty in the change, even in the decay. The sadness lies in saying goodbye to what was, and the fear of an unknown future.
How about just knowing that God is here, now. And that whatever decisions I’ve made or didn’t make were the right choices at the time. Every small action, even the mundane, is okay. Also, whatever choices other people make will be okay, too. Whoever becomes the next President of the United States, that person cannot save the world, and if they contribute to its destruction, that will, in the end, be okay too. It will have to be. Not that a person couldn’t or shouldn’t engage in protests or take action, but just that we ultimately must accept whatever comes our way.
There’s a forest fire near my mother’s house where my stepfather lives in western North Carolina, and it’s spreading, without containment. Of course I worry about my sister and stepfather who live there, but my first thought was my mother’s things. My sister and stepfather can evacuate, but they can only take so many things with them. But then those are all just things. I am grateful for the memories that I have. If everything burns to the ground, I’ll still have beautiful memories of my mom.
The other night I dreamt I was in the middle of the autumn woods, on a winding path that looked just like the path where my boyfriend and I rode our bikes yesterday, a path that he photographed because it was so beautiful (the picture is shown at the top of this post). Most importantly, in my dream I felt a higher presence–a feminine energy–and that’s all I remember.
Before I’d gone to bed I’d burned my mugwort oil, drank a cup of mugwort tea, rubbed some mugwort oil on the soles of my feet, all with an intention of inducing a lucid dream of which I gain more insight into my path. Mugwort is considered to have spiritual benefits that induce lucid dreaming, but so far the only time it worked for me was when I had it fresh, under my pillow case. This particular dream wasn’t lucid, but I certainly got insight into my path: a winding, unclear road of which I’m in the middle, with autumn leaves falling, bursts of gorgeous color, and a beautiful feminine presence—my mother?
The answers are right in front of me, of us: this is it. I am on my path, and you are on yours, and only time will tell what happens.