Song Dedication: Birthplace by Novo Amor
The further I get into this other life that began about a year and a half ago, the more space I am given to stretch, flex, bend and bow (but never break) into whatever form is needed for the given moment.
I’ve experienced a string of what I would have previously (pre-migraine Sarah) dismissed as mere coincidences, had I even been able to connect the dots to what may have seemed inconsequential, individual events.
After I recently recounted some of these things to others, I realized that what I really wanted to do was write about it…so here I am, once again.
So the first strand of events began last week when I was preparing to walk the dog. I had picked an audiobook that didn’t actually download and so once I realized it wasn’t available to me I picked something shorter in the same vein, so I could download quickly and be on our way. I ended up choosing a live lecture by Wayne Dyer. I wasn’t overly familiar with his work and in the past had noted some aversion to interacting with it, so didn’t. I guess Wednesday was the right day to finally let him in a bit.
As Lucy and I walked the ice path along the Fraser River, I noted the freezing air pushing at my back and was grateful for it’s direction, but Dyer’s voice, rich and resonantly alto also brought warmth within. He began to speak of the Tao Te Ching (or The Way), which again was something I had heard of, but with little interest had never delved into what it actually was. By the end of our walk, my cheeks and chin frozen as our direction had to inevitably change, wind now in my face that lacked the lovely terrier beard Lucy wears; however a fire had been stoked from the brightly burning embers already established from my new perspectives shared by Brian Weiss’s Past Life Research (of which I was still reading his second book – in print).
As Dyer referenced some of the significant teachings of the Tao in his lecture, it fell into my thirsty ears conjuring curiosity and resounding acceptance, like every cell was pulsing and sighing, Finally.
After completing an appointment and some to-do list tasks, I went home and opened to the remaining chapters of Brian Weiss’s book, Through Time into Healing. And what did I read in the second paragraph!? How he was asked to collaborate on a research project that involved his research on past life regression therapy, reincarnation and how it fit with the Tao Te Ching. I was like, Huh? That’s kinda weird. And for me “weird” has to be pretty out there at this point in my journey.
The next morning I attended my regular Thursday morning yoga class. As the students were rolling up their yoga mats to head home, our teacher shared that the other stand-in yoga teacher wished to offer some of the work she had done in Bali based in Taoism. I immediately did a double take over my shoulder like she suddenly had three heads, recorrecting as best I could with a knowing smile and internal chuckle. I later felt compelled to text her and let her know it was me being weird, not her.
Three times in 24 hours had me almost convinced I needed to pursue further knowledge about this ancient Chinese teaching, yet I still let it rest, curiosity still piqued. At the time I was also a touch distracted as my son suddenly became sick on Thursday, complaining of the typical tummy stuff and with an okay sense of my intuition, I believed him as he begged to crawl back into bed and sleep. Luckily my Dad was available to come over while he rested so I could attend my doctor’s appointment and said Yoga class. When I called the school that morning to let them know, the principal answered and shared that I should be prepared for puking (as many kids and staff were off with the same issues). I laughed and told her thank-you but he rarely throw’s up. She laughed back and said firmly, “Be prepared. He will puke.” I thanked her and hung up.
As the day progressed, I kept close watch over my sick kiddo, offering fluids and keeping a bucket close by. He seemed to be turning a corner around 1 pm, so told him if he wanted soup to let me know. He replied with the need to use the bathroom but no soup just yet. Next I heard the yell of a wrestler coming from down the hallway. As I approached the bathroom door I found my son (who remember, has little experience with vomiting) standing over the toilet (not kneeling, like one would hope for optimum aim) as he finished his war cry, he puked. Three times, with such voracity, that it also surged out his tiny nostrils, much to his horror. I did only what I could, I Mom-rubbed his back and reassured him he was going to be okay. He doubted this very much. After the third projection, he blew his nose, washed his face and hands and exclaimed, “I feel awesome!!”
I disinfected the bathroom and told him he had done well. We laughed because of the terribleness of it, but yet the relief and improvement it brought so soon after. It made me reflect on my total acceptance of the situation. I was mostly on the sidelines here, cheering on my son, encouraging him to get through it. This was his cross to bare and he did so well.
The next morning I had a meeting planned with some friends who get together every month or so to check in about our stay-at-home Mom jobs and use the time to reconnect and get out of the SAHM isolation island we sometimes find ourselves on. My husband asked if I would cancel, with our son being sick. I said I wouldn’t cancel until I knew for sure, deciding to wait until morning. No need to sound an alarm for something that hadn’t happened yet (tomorrow morning). In the morning, my son woke from a restorative night of sleep and said he was fine to go back to school. I went to my meeting as planned.
As always, I am glad I was there, it’s one of those things you don’t know you need until you are there and have it. At one point in the discussion, one person shared some of her own connections to Taoism and QiGong. I finally relented, Okay I am on it. I got home and bought Wayne Dyer’s Audio book on his 21st century interpretations of how the Tao is poignant for any century, culture or belief system, but especially now. I’ve decided to work through each teaching (81 in all), by listening, reading and likely writing about it…but I unexpectedly found that I also need to draw it out. Commence the dusting off of sketchbook!
So today I am practicing and contemplating the first of the 81 teachings which Lao Tzu refers to as (loosely and generally) Live in Mystery. This concept is profound for someone who finds herself in constant fluctuations of anxiety. The more I learn to accept rather than resist the moment or the circumstances as they arise, the quieter my anxiety becomes…often taking a backseat, or even going as far as getting in the trunk, so only her muffled whimperings are barely audible.
I believe the Tao has shown itself to me at this very significant moment in my life as I was ready for it. Ready to accept it. Ready to understand it in its greater context of the universe. Ready to work with it and honour it. I have the space to go there and the energy to be curious. I have had other events that have aligned beautifully in the past days as well, however I prefer, at this point in my post to leave them a mystery to you my reader, and I encourage you to just believe and trust me that there are no random events in our lives. Each snowflake falling in its perfect intended place. May you too find the joy and wonder of living in mystery. Here is my drawing that materialized in my mind after 3 days of contemplating the first teaching…
Wow, timely for me to hear your musings. I realize I have several copies of the “Tao” that emerge periodically & float back & forth from my night stand to my bookshelf, one from my university days. Wise & simple, yet deep & iluminating, it maybe time for me to reacquainted myself with it also. Thank you. Your words resonate on so many levels. Finding myself contemplating the mystery & recognizing my resistance to surrender, my attachment to what is & my need to let go or crumble.
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Karen, thankyou for you thoughtful and very kind words. Much gratitude