She wrote a charge. I think to myself that she wrote it to me. Her words, "stop thinking so much and write. Please. Write." Something inside of me was nudged. So there I was, away from home but scribbling on scrap paper while ears popped as we drove through the NC mountains on our way home from our family vacation. 19+ hours in the car.
No end was is sight, just miles and miles of trees waving as we passed. I caught myself wishing that I could rush the process. Click my heels together like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home," and arrive. This feeling of anxiety, wishing the destination would quickly appear at my beckon call wasn't foreign to me.
I've caught myself trying to "click my heels" before.
I often tell others that it's not about the destination but rather, the journey. I breathe deep and "pray" like my friend rain began teaching me last week. I pray contentment with mindful breathing. I pause, intent on just listening. I'm reminded to be where I am. Now.
I lay my head back on the seat and my eyes met the clouds above the horizon. Like watercolor masterpieces, the colors blend and take my breathe away. It's then that something happened. A quickening deep inside my soul.
I feel Her.
She comes close and whispers, "This. This, Willow, is what it's all about."
At first I questioned: Who? Could this really be? Oh maybe it is. Maybe the Divine Spirit is giving me a glimpse into knowing. But wait, What? What do you mean by "this"?
But somehow I knew the answer. It was in the quiet embrace of breathing and being where I was. In the moment.
Awake. Aware. Listening