Pages

Pages - Menu

Monday, November 11, 2024

Apples

 


Dear blog,

 

Hi...

My body is has been feeling so hot...

My heart so hot. 

Especially when go out with people, my body feels like it heats up. It's sometimes a bit uncomfy. 

I don't know how else to explain it.

It feels like my temple is cleaning itself.

For a minute, all is quiet. And it feels like these past few days have been holy days, days to look at and see, and have greater perspective on all that has happened.

Sometimes I feel strange. Because I feel afraid to communicate, or express myself. It seems so natural to share things with some people. And other times, not so much. 

So my throat chakra feels in need of balance. To allow my own truth, and a safe space in me to communicate. And it's something I get annoyed about. The best I know, is to be with my own fearful inner child, and allow the isnness of how I feel, without making it need to be different.

And I think, perhaps, the best is for me to look and listen without feeling that I have to push away words. Nor gather them in.

But look.

And that causes me to feel a bit better.

I had these huge guilt feelings, that didn't even make sense. It sounds silly but these feelings we so big. 

And yet they came and visited, and it was so not fun. But I see, that sometimes, my greatest truth, and the greatest truth anyone has ever spoken to me, was being a soft and spacious presence, that allowed and loved and just looked.

And what peace allowing brings.  

 My higher self. Who is wise, and spacious, and kind, and speaks truth with greater presence, is my solace, the throat chakra of inner stillness.

And that, is the greatest truth I've ever heard spoken.

Love, and grace. Light.

The trigger for some of these feelings, was I was wanting to load the truck full of branches that my brother had left on the lawn, he'd started trimming the trees. And I thought I should load them in the truck, and take them to the dump. 

It was dusk at the time, and I thought I'd just do it, and let Bessie rest, as she was in her zen place, and so much of the time is having to dance in form. 

So, I went alone, though I get a little scared, and afraid of going places alone, especially at dusk. But I told myself, that I am never alone, and it seemed like the right thing to do, so we could have a truck in case we needed to drive somewhere, because our other car randomly got a flat. 

So I went and unloaded the truck. There was another human there, a little odd seeming, but otherwise, alright. 

I unloaded it. 

But as I was driving home, I remembered my sister, and brother said they were giving away a bunch of apples at the church.

We all like apples, so I went, without telling anyone. I thought I'd be back pretty fast.

But when I pulled up, my uncle was there, helping, my neighbor, and the bishop, give away this huge bin of big, beautiful apples. 

I think he does this every year.

 These three, my uncle, A lawyer. One the current bishop. One past bishop, into politics, and farming.

Three people that have had a lot of influence in our community. Apples. 

And three people that I'd finally gotten to know a bit better this past year. Especially my uncle, who I have felt more connected to than I ever have at any other time in my life, as Bess and I have gotten to know him a bit better, than when we were kids, at least I feel through chiors, and music, we've shared a seeing space, where the heart shines through, more than the forms that we once took.

I was just going to get some apples, and go right back home. 

But I paused, and looked at them, and thought that I should stay, for a bit longer. I realized that they might need help loading apples. So I got in the truck, and helped box, and bag them. 

And it felt good helping, and seeing each other. And I felt for a moment we were just loading apples. And it was nice, doing a thing together. Something real. Sharing a space. 

Here there wasn't a politician, a lawyer, or a Bishop. 

But just us.

Apples.

And a shared space.

And that was nice.

Boys, much like my neighbors, digging in the garden. 

My uncle is learning the guitar, and we had fun talking about a guitar player musician called um... somebody Jimmy Emmanuel? I may remember in a minute.

I didn't leave until the apples were all in boxes, and bags. And they let me take some home, and some to my neighbor Amelia.

Around this time, I realized, I'd been gone for a little too long. And it was getting dark. And my mom, and sister were probably freaking out, because I had the only working car, and I had been gone for a while.

And they wouldn't have known where I was at, other than that I had gone to the dump.

I had my phone with me, while I was taking apples to Amelia, and tried calling home, and had seen I'd missed a call from my sister. 

Amelia didn't come to the door, so I left the apples. Bess didn't answer.

So hurried home.

And oh boy. Bess and mom were real worried, and I felt bad, as I had just gotten really into the moment, of loading apples. 

Sometimes I forget to communicate. Sometimes I get real focused.

Either way, I apologized. And realized my error, and totally would have been scared too if Bess hadn't told me where she'd be at. 

I guess she and Ameila were both ready to look for me. And my mom was real worried too.

They were pumped full of adrenaline.  

Oh dear. I totally understood their angst. And mostly, I realized that I am lucky to have people in my life, that worry about me.

Though, I don't know what happened, because later night I felt a strange overwhelming sense of guilt just float in.

Wow. It was interesting. I don't know if that's the right word. But it wasn't fun. No.

It was huge.

Like it had triggered a junk drawer of just old feelings of shame, and guilt. And where did it come from?

It was loud. And said I shouldn't have helped with the apples. And that I'd forgotten to wash my hands after the dump. And a boat load of things.

Things that were out were way out of proportion.

Stuff my higher self totally saw as just junk drawer stuff. 

Yet visitors like these are loud.

Should have's....

Should have washed hands kept floating in my mind over and over. It was a little paranoid. Too much.

Where was this all coming from?

Should haves.

Yet...

Sitting with it was like sitting with all my childhood should haves, halfs.

And just sitting with it was hard.  This mind storm. That pulls on things, and says so much. The funny thing is, I realize that this is old stuff.

But higher self, told me better. 

And sat with me. 

And the visitors, eventually came, and left. 

The heart knows better. 

 The higher seeing knows better.

And they are the keepers of God's temple. Not imposters.


And all the split pieces, the internal lawyer, and politician and Bishop, are the product of a split mind. And under grace, under that tree, and the fruit is oneness.

Under grace, masks fall off.

And the space within each is seen.

Grace washes all hands, and all feet, and covers all things. This union, and fruit, is beautiful.

It wasn't so much anything that happened. 

But an old energy came to be looked at, and asked integrated back into better seeing. 

The pieces of myself that needed a better looking at.

The tree lost boys of my own consciousness. 

Something that needed healing. 

My own politician, Lawer, and Bishop, and me being a space for that.

My higher self, my heart, parenting some part of me, bringing back pieces of my own self back to my own tree.

That under the tree of grace, and love, and truth, the trinity of spirit,  

Religion, the law, and the rulers, are absorbed back into union, of love. Back into a family of one.

That we are all one.

That we are just gathering apples, under the tree of grace. We are all one family.

We are one. One heart.

No need for splitting or cutting.

And sometimes we come home late.

And sometimes we forget to communicate.

And sometimes we don't always have perfectly clean hands.

But its our hearts that count.

And we are all trying. All trying to do better.

To see better.

And in heart, we see we are all the same tree, the same fruit, the same branches. 

And the music brings us together to clear that which we aren't. So we remember the family tree we came from.

 

No comments:

Post a Comment