A quest for deeper meaning
It took me exactly 11 days to get back to that spot in the woods that I had found on New Year’s Eve. Just time, and work, and busyness had created a dynamic where I simply was not able to make it back out to the woods. On this lovely January afternoon, I snowshoed back out taking the long way around, to come to the little teepee of sticks and dryer lint and birch bark that I had left there days before.
This time I was smart! I had grabbed a lighter from the kitchen drawer before I left; the regular old Bic kind that you flip the wheel in order to light the flint and get a flame. This time, I had it figured out. Or so I thought. I get to my tiny little campfire in the woods only to bend down with said lighter in hand, plucking through the drifted snow to find the dry stuff buried underneath and pulling it to the top, I flipped the wheel on the lighter. spark, spark, spark, nothing… again, and again… You’re fucking kidding me.
I tried and tried and tried. I stood up to see if I could get enough lighter fluid to be at the base of the lighter to create a flame, so that I could light the fire standing up and then just tuck it into the campfire so that everything could burn. Absolutely no luck. I had to laugh because if I hadn’t laughed, I probably would’ve kicked the entire campfire over in frustration.
Why on earth was I being prevented from burning my New Year’s intentions?!
Over the years I have had hundreds of people sit in front of me and ask me why; why did this person I love not love me back the same way I loved them? Why did this horrible event in my life happen to me? Why did my loved one get ripped away from me, out of my life when, and the way that they did? Endless questions of why, and here I sat with my own wondering of why. Searching for sense, where there appeared to be none.
Earlier this day, my husband received a phone call from his nephew, telling us that my husband’s niece, this nephew’s sister, had died unexpectedly late the night before. No health issues. Still a very young woman. Smart, funny, and marched to her own drummer her entire life. Why her? Why now? After hearing the news all that was left to do was just ask and wonder, recognizing that there would never be an answer to the question. So often we hear comments like “when it’s your time, it’s your time” or “when God calls you home you’re going.“ These comments are always incredibly well intended, believe me, but if you’ve ever been on the receiving end, you know that they offer very little comfort.
I understand completely that some things we will never understand. And then oftentimes even when we step into the viewpoint of Spirit, when we talk about soul contracts, and sacred agreements and jobs that we are here to fulfill with one another, while it may provide an answer it often does not provide understanding or true peace. That my friend, takes more time.
So as I stand here out in the middle of the woods next to my tiny little New Year’s fire site that for some reason, I still don’t understand, but that damn thing will not light, I too am left with asking why, searching for my own level of understanding to so many things that are far bigger than just my little won’t-light fire.
As I take a few deep breaths, I settle into the knowing of Spirit inside of me and the realization that there’s a greater mystery unfolding every moment of every day, and we have no idea what it is.
We try to put our life on a course and plan, and strategize, and make schedules, and set our goals. We have no idea what tomorrow will bring, or even 10 minutes from now. As I breathe, I surrender myself to the idea that there is a wisdom that is carried in the vibration of all that is, and I am a speck that is floating within it. I don’t have control and I never did, and I won’t. Control is an illusion.
I am reminded by all of the people I sit with who ask why, and as I have just done that very thing with my husband, and family, and within myself, I understand the search for some perception that feels like control. If we understand the “why” then we can make some sense of things.
And so I simply offer you this; what does it mean to release yourself to the mystery? What does it mean to breathe out the pressure of needing to know the answers, and then having to figure out what to do with them, and breathe in the acceptance that we have no idea what is really unfolding in life? What does it mean to settle into the open space that there are far greater things happening than any one of us knows, or can forecast, or even begin to understand?
Somewhere in the weirdness of everything, I find something like comfort.
And I hope you might too.
Carry on my friends.
Forever the journey, Anne