not all who wander are lost

not all who wander are lost

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Last night, while curled up under a blanket, I finished a book by Madeline L'Engle called Summer of the Great-Grandmother. It is a memoir; the story of her last summer with her mother, and at the end, her mother dies. It is a beautiful book, a tender honest story. I finished the book around 10:30 or so, set the book aside and....of course, fell asleep.

Sometime later, Leo came in from the other room, woke me up and steered my sleepy-self into bed. Once in bed, I felt very awake (isn't that annoying?). And from the left field of my mind, totally unexpected to the rest of me came thoughts of my Dad, his passing, his physical earthly absence. These thoughts came like a monster wave that I wasn't ready for, huge and heavy and I thought I might break into a million pieces for the weight of them. I curled my legs up to my chest, wrapped my arms around myself and held my breath. And just the same as an ocean wave, at the very moment I thought I might break, the weight lifted, the wave passed. I uncurled, rolled onto my stomach and looked out at the night. Big breath. Miss you. I fell asleep sometime soonafter.

When I woke up this morning, I knew just which book I'd read next. Dad gave me "The New Earth" by Eckhart Tolle for Christmas in 2006 (I know this because he had the habit of writing the date and from Dad to Sara in the cover of most of the books he gave me). I am 46 pages into it this morning and it's like being in communion, communication with him. Dad and I didn't have an easy relationship but I would call it a good one. It was not easy in the sense that he pushed my buttons more than perhaps any other person in this world. Brought me to my most angry, my most ugly self at times. And as such, I realize that he was an important teacher for me. Taught me a lot about my weak places, brought me face to face with my shadows, my ego. Even still.

I was also close to my dad; not close like we'd talk all the time but close like he understood me to my core, and I understood him to his. We would have great connections and conversations about the big important things like the universe and consciousness and God . Reading this morning was like having one of those conversations with him. In fact, I take it as a conversation with whatever otherly form he holds these days.

When I am inspired while reading, I tend to underline in my book. This morning's underlined passage is this, and it reflects upon everything that I've written above:

"One thing we do know: Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment." -Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth

Amen to that.

I was given my Dad as my Dad in this life. All the wonderful-ness and all the difficult-ness involved in that relationship, we were both given, for the evolution of our consciousness. And then Dad's illness, and his dying and death, and his absence, and his "other-ly" presence....I take it all for for my learning, for my softening, for my humbling, for my faith and trust in the Highest Good, which is so often beyond my vision and understanding.

Amen to that too.

And so it is that this day begins, and that I am reminded yet again to be open to the experiences that unfold along the path~


Eva Schoon said...

Deep calls to deep....
I love you, Sara.


Anonymous said...

Just wanted you to know I read this. Beautiful, honest, tender post. Have you listened to Eckhart Tolle say that quote on Speaking of Faith?

Love you, Em

MountainWave said...

yes, loved it. I listened to that on Nina's roof in Nicaragua watchin' a sunset.

Doug said...

May you come to embrace, accept, and acknowledge who that 'Highest Good' is...