There have been times in my life when my instincts have guided me to do nothing but ground myself. When I’ve touched something that feels extraordinary and from a completely different energy than what feels the norm of this life. Something sacred? Maybe. Something deeply resonant? Yes. Something that reminds me of a much broader realm of reality, that I know within me, yet that has been forgotten through some deep cocooning from wounds.
I’ve loved these times. Moments really. Glimpses within a moment. Glimpses that can so easily slide back into the ordinary norms of day to day life. Like an onramp that connects fantastic, blissful countryside wandering to the racing traffic of a freeway. I’m generally hesitant to take the onramp to quickly.
With age, this hesitation has grown in me. I don’t want to return quite so quickly. A bit like seeing a fantastic movie and not being ready to leave the theatre back to the regular streets. I need to sit through the credits, just to let that fantastic movie rest inside of me while others exit.
This morning I had one of those moments, a phone call with a dear and trusted friend. She has a wisdom that I deeply value, and that helps me remember who I am. In ending the call, I didn’t want to just clap my hands and move to the freeway that is my todo list. My “letting the call rest inside me” instinct today was a candle. “I need some fire,” I thought to myself. I don’t know why. Just some flame. Just something simple that is beyond words.
I put on some classical music. Played softly.
I got down on the floor to pet my sleeping and aging dog. His energy is very soft.
Maybe that’s the theme of it all for me. Go to the extraordinary. But then be deliberate about the return with a few bits of softness. Just a candle. Maybe some music. Maybe a moment with this being that knows nothing about my todo list. That’s my “what now?” for transition from extraordinary moments.