SO MANY PEOPLE ARE FACING OBSTACLES AND LESSONS in their lives right now, as a result of the Earth energies, the astrological alignments, and the place we are in the Spiral of Ascension; it can seem overwhelming.
Everyone’s life seems to be disrupted, often in major ways, with personal relationships, living situations, jobs . . . all the things that “matter.”
These are important to people, because they define who and what they are, but they are also unimportant, though that may seem hard to grasp. It is keeping balance that is important, for we all must walk a path between the reality of what is around us and the reality of what is within us. Only in balance is found the true reality, or what is really “real” within us, before us and around us.
In the balance between our Higher Power within us, (that which is eternal), and our personalities, (who we think we are and how we define ourselves in this 3-D world), we find our authentic self. It is a dance, an interplay, that leads us upward in the Spiral of Ascension, discovering ourselves along the way.
With all the messages, phone calls, discussions, counseling and journeying for clients over the past two months, I am reminded of my sojourn to Black Mesa. Spirit had called me to be there, and there were many things I had to do – and learn.
The first two days were filled with ceremonies that Spirit asked me to do, for the land, for the Earth, for all beings, above and below, for the Universe. The second two days were devoted to ceremonies that Spirit asked me to do for myself, so that I could be better attuned to the Earth and Power, and be a better vessel for this time and this place: my soul purpose.
The fifth day was a day of rest and orientation: integrating these energies. Each “day” was infinite, as each was spent mostly in the all-time, no-time of Spirit; but each was a “day” of things to be done, and each had its own many purposes.
Time can be “divided” in many ways. Time itself is a concept only for us who live in polarity. For, in the Creator’s eyes, all time is all now; or, put another way, everything happens all at once. We only divide time in linear fashion so our limited 3-D minds can make it manageable.
Bear in mind, during this time, that we are experiencing the life lessons we were put here to learn. Remember that they arise in ways unique to us, in our unique situations, and they come as we are able to handle them. We are not given more than we can handle, though it may seem so, at times. Sometimes, what we are experiencing is to prepare us for what is to come or make the transition to where we need to be to do what we came here to do.
For me, a major goal for several years has been to find the Stillpoint, that place where things come from, the place of balance between what is within and without, and make it a living reality in my life: Learning to Live In The Stillpoint.
Part of that process has been to tackle my own obstacles, or barriers, to being where I need to be, to be who I am, in the way the Creator meant for me to be. That is why each year I go on a Spirit Quest, which I did in August, to touch what is meaningful in my life by leaving behind the day-to-day pressing concerns that tend to distract from the true meaning of life.
I chose to climb Black Mesa during my Spirit Quest, and the lessons there may have some meaning for others in this time. So, I share them.
The first time, in 2000, I had only just discovered this place and had other places to be and things to do; I wasn’t prepared and could not approach the task with the right reverence and respect. I didn’t know that at the time, and was bitterly disappointed that I couldn’t just up and do it, but Spirit knew. I wanted to climb the mountain, but could not.
The second time, in 2002, I thought I was ready (in 2001, I just didn’t have the time or resources to make the trip, but vowed I would do so the next year). I went to the Mesa with the intent to climb it. But again circumstances got in the way. The enormity of the whole task was greater than I thought. Instead, I did ceremony at the mesa’s base, extensively explored its boundaries, and met the spirits of the place, but didn’t climb to the summit.
This was to teach me that I must do more work to be prepared for what was awaiting me there, the reality of it, and it a laid the groundwork for what was to come. I was disappointed, again, but accepted the lesson, being grateful that I had the opportunity to learn more.
The third time, in August, I set aside enough time, arrived with the help of Spirit at the right time, and had prepared myself for a year to do it right – with much prayer and preparation. It was done in true sacred manner, and so I was prepared not only to take the action but to receive the full benefit.
It took three years and three attempts for me to be able to do what I wanted. I wanted to climb the mountain, that was my goal, but the mountain required that I change first to meet the goal.
Such is the way of many things in life. We don’t always get what we want when we want it, and when we get it, it may not be what we thought it was going to be, but something entirely different.
We may want something, even with all our mind, heart and spirit, but if we’re not ready to receive it, “become it,” we must do other things to prepare ourselves. If we don’t consciously make the changes required, Spirit will present those lessons we need to be prepared. Then, we can achieve the goal (if it’s still a goal that is needed).
Our perceived needs and the requirements of the goal must come into alignment in order for our intent to come into manifestation in reality. We create a goal, we change to meet the goal, our circumstances change, and the “goal” becomes a new reality. We are, thereby, forever changed, with a new reality and new goals.
Even though my intent was strong, about halfway into the hike, I began to have doubts that I would physically achieve it. The heat was unbearable; there was no shade. The sun beat down unbearably, not conducive to vigorous activity. The miles seemed to stretch away. The goal seemed unattainable, seeming to get no closer. I had to adjust.
Rather than seeing the goal as the summit, I began to see the goal as “going to” the summit. Rather than projecting being on top of the Mesa, I had so see each step as an event in itself, the true reality of each step. If I saw the stepsonly as means to a goal, then the steps were not appreciated, were discounted.
There was danger: rattlesnakes, difficult terrain, no one knowing where I was. What if I slipped and was injured or bitten by a poisonous snake? What if I was overcome by the heat? What if no one found me? What if I got there and was physically unable to make it back?
These were fears, and I had to deal with them.
In dealing with these fears, I had a choice. I could go on despite my fear, or turn back, defeated by them, and by the seeming impossibility of the task. Or, I could stop, take stock and see if my goal were realistic. It could be a life-and-death decision. It was important that I treat it with respect.
So, I stopped in my tracks and took inventory: where I was, where I was coming from, where I wanted to go, and how I could achieve what I wanted to do, or what adjustments had to be made to meet the present situation.
My solution was to respect the reality of each moment. Each moment was as important, maybe more so, than the idea of actually being on the summit, my goal. And I realized, too, that as important as it was for me to reach the summit, the goal of returning safely all the way from the summit back to where I began was of equal importance.
So, I became present, truly present, and asked the Creator for help; I called in my guides and spirits, uncradled my drum, burned sage, gave offerings and held counsel with Spirit.
In this way, this quest became a marriage of body and spirit, of mind and of heart, facing the physical reality and balancing it with inner guidance. It was no longer just an idea, something “I” would do, but a part of the life of the moment on this planet, as a part of everything.
I was shown that I must be aware of my fears, but not let them guide me; they were not reality, but only potential; the reality of them would or would not come; I could only operate from what was before me at the moment, and have faith that I could and would meet whatever challenge came.
Why fear? Why focus on fear? How can one live in joy if one is preoccupied by fear? Even if one is alive, if the mind is preoccupied with potential for injury or death and the heart is turned off to the joy of the moment, one is not living. It is a living death; one is better off dead. At least, in death, there is liberation from concerns of the body. So, why not be alive now? Liberated now? Let death be a companion, but not a guide.
living be here now.
Afterwards, I went on toward my goal with a new appreciation for the process of achieving it: each step as a prayer, each moment as something to be savored, an “achievement” in itself as important as the goal itself. My goal was an idea; each moment is a reality to be appreciated and fully lived.
I repacked my bag and set off again, rejuvenated, with my staff in one hand to help me overcome physical obstacles, with my prayer stick in the other, holding the hand of the Creator to guide me, my drum and my water strapped around my waist, ready to nourish me along the way.
There were many wonders on that path I would have missed had I not stopped to take inventory. The journey itself became a delight, timeless, no hurry, each moment a great gift — even the worries, for they were an invigorating part of the process, too, as part of the path of discovery.
Each turn on the path along the craggy mountaintop became a precious moment that filled me with excitement, true joy, and even sadness that the goal was almost reached. I didn’t want it to end.
How grateful I was that I had stopped to savor each moment; how wonder filled it was to see that each moment along the way had itself had been a challenge and an achievement. Now, I saw, it was almost over.
Thank God, I thought, the journey had been enjoyed to its fullest, for that was the “summit” after all. I was fulfilled, with each new step only a greater gift for a heart that was overflowing.
Then, I was at the top, and the world stretched out at my feet all around me. I could see as far as I could see and beyond, knowing there were many places and many things that my heart could feel but my body and mind could only dream. I was limited only by my physical body’s ability to perceive; my mind and heart were limitless. I knew that I was glimpsing, held only by being in my body, the ultimate goal we all seek: being one with everything.
© Jim Ewing 2003
What did Jim learn about the true purpose of his journey on the mountain? Find out next month in part 2.
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