Marko Polo

 

            I've been reflecting on this year. It's gone by in a blink. It really doesn't seem like it's been a whole year. Time seems oddly different to me. More so than ever before.

            Days, seem like minutes. Weeks seem like days. Months weeks.

            Years, merely months.

            I'm not sure what timeline I'm in, but time seems like an old crusty relative that comes to visit once in a while, but one that is stodgy, stale, full of woe. Stuck in the future, or the past. And when it finally goes home, I'm glad that it finally left.

    Never in my life have I felt more like a tree, or a shrub, or a rock, or a river.  And am glad of it.  Never have I spent more time with myself, meditating, clearing my own internal clutter. Never have I been still enough to know that my own vibe is lovely as it is. Like a forest full of life, but only a life one can see if one is absolutely still.

    Sometimes I find myself startled by the noise of what we all call normal life. Like a simple bird on a tree minding her own business, when someone lights up a firecracker and tosses into the air.

        It seems more than natural to feel a little ruffled by it if you're not used to such noise.

            The other evening, Bess and spent the evening watching some amazing talented dancers. I really enjoyed some of their acts. It was loud, and quite lovely. They were excellent.

            But the funny thing was, for all its glitter, and excellence, we both came home, and sighed in relief, and stared up at the night's sky.

            The glittering there was subtle. Quiet. And far more grand, and in harmony with our souls.

            So we both got on our bikes, and moon biked, as we have taken to doing at the most darkest quiet hours of the night. And enjoyed that ever so much more.

            Night biking has been a lovely addition to our life. I wonder why it's taken me so long to discover this.

            Why have I not given myself permission to bike in the dark?

            I don't know.

            The stars were clear, and wonderful.

            Biking at night is like being in your own spacecraft. Fast, quick, beautiful. Your focus is always on the light. And when the moon is out, you can see nearly all you need to.

            Here you can explore your own souls galaxies, while the starlight lights up parts of yourself that were hidden.

            You're much more likely to see falling stars, as your eyes will always be looking up.

            When it's darkest. And the moon is nowhere. And biking in the dark makes us invisible to one another, that is when Bess will call out, "Marko."

            I'll hear her to the side of me, and know exactly where to steer. And I'll answer back. "Polo."

            This way, we can keep a steady course.

            Biking in the dark.

            Though we do have bike lights.

            It's far more interesting to be intuitive. And keep our eyes on the stars.

            That way you just know where to go.

            When it's midnight.

            And the roads are dark. And everyone is asleep. And the stars are the clearest.

            It is the best time for moon biking.

            The witching hour. Where cast we cast spells with our words by speaking our deepest truths without judgment or censor. Lone dogs bark in the distance, the only souls aware of our passing. Like two specters in the night, drinking in the moonshine, and dipping our souls in starlight.

            Here, we are invisible.

            Yet we can see everything much more clearly. And most of all, the days static, if there has been any acquired, melts off.

            It's strange to realize that who knows how many lifetimes we have all spent collectively adding to the static of each other.

            Noise.

            Never giving stillness a chance.

Instead of quietly being in harmony with ourselves, and our own natural rhythms, pointing to the stillness we all seek, like a tree, or calm lake, we pound on our drums, demanding attention, creating conflict, and chaos. Noise.

            Static.

            Friction.

            And the hunger of both performer, and audience, is doubled by the concert, instead of feeling connected, at home, and closer to God, we feel more isolated, envious, and hangry for something else.

            The comforting thing to know is that every single one of us is biking in the dark, in the sea of humanity. We can't really tell where we are going, or how far we are from home.

            Nor do we realize that home is inside our own hearts. Nowhere else. So there's nowhere to really go, except within. 

            We can't even see ourselves, or each other clearly.

            We can turn on our man made headlights. But it will drown out the sky. And we can't really see far ahead with them, anyway.

            But if you quietly let the sky to be your guide, the you that gets is in the way of steering, disappears. You gradually feel your way through the night. And every once in a while, if you're unsure, you can call out, "Marko."

            And if you're lucky, you'll hear a shout back. "Polo."

            You'll know that you're not alone.

            And that is quite enough.

            You can be at peace in darkness.

            We are all where we need to be. Placed perfectly in our orbits, like soul stars. Rising and falling according to the divine pattern of life.

            And the ride is far better, than arriving.

            We are all steering as best we can.

            We are all just fine doing our moondance.

            Stardance.

            Bikedance however it needs to be.

            We can boom out our lives, loudly, hungry, adding to the collective hunger. Or we can pass like stars in the night, quietly. Silently. Happy. Full, adding our own bit of light to the sky. We can be steady, like a compass, or we can fall, and burn beautifully.             

            There is nothing lacking.

            Only our awareness of our own inner light, that can be easily lit as soon as we tune in. And when we are in harmony with that light, we are in resonance with the entire cosmos.