In the Stream of Life ...

purifying
Originally uploaded by _Paula AnDDrade
My mind is overflowing with a zillion different thoughts, having had a writing vacation for the past 4 days while I was in "student" mode, learning new healings.

I awoke today ready to enter into the stream of life. I did not experience the kind of contractions that I have normally had after an expansive spiritual retreat weekend; in fact, I have experienced just the opposite. I am charged and renewed. For a greater portion of the day, I felt both focused and creative. The end result of this energy was a slideshow that I will present to my students tomorrow in our last class together before they graduate in a few weeks. I wanted to leave them some parting inspirational thoughts to enter the "real world" with. I decided to use many of my photos of nature, which were the catalyst for the formation of statements that arose from my own lived experiences or prompted me to access quotes from others who have impacted me in some way by their words of wisdom. It was so moving and beautiful to compile and I am very excited to be able to close out the semester by offering this gift of sharing, of my heart's utterings, with each of them.

I am struck by the nature of this project AND the fact that much of my weekend was steeped in the exploration of linguistic space -- shapes and forms and the "nameless". I am very aware of the importance of words and being able to "name" things, particularly given my history and my former terror of the unknown. I read at an early age and would bury myself in the encyclopedia or the many volumes I acquired from the neighborhood bookmobile. Written language and stories offered me solace in the midst of chaos. I began journaling around age 11 and constructing poems by my early teens. It was too dangerous and scary to feel the messages of my interior; writing, on the other hand, was an escape hatch for feelings to live outside of me, in the ink on the pages. To some extent, my early written expression, while seemingly cathartic, was actually detached and disconnected. I would put "this stuff" out there and have no relationship to it, once it reached the paper.

My writing today is quite different. After this weekend, I realize that there is a shape and a form to each entry. I have a sense of a "theme", then choose a photo based on a "keyword". The writing then flows from the forms in both the photo and from inside of me. I feel what I am writing deeply. There is a connection to the content. It is not an exercise of intellect, but rather a channeling from my heart, my solar plexus, down to my roots. My writing is a reflection of the awakening of my senses taking in the stream of my life, from the metaphorical splashing and gushing of water to the cleansing moisture on my skin to the quenching of my thirst. The images in this woman's photo above speak volumes to me.

"Stream of Life" as a metaphor has numerous shapes and meanings. It can look like many vertical lines, as in the rush of a waterfall -- overpowering, purifying, intense. It could also appear as horizontal curves -- flowing, calm. It may take the shape of an elongated circle -- like a lake -- which may imply a floating on top of or perhaps a sinking into.  There may be interruptions across the lines,  like a thick rectangle (fallen tree) or many circles on top of one another (a dam) which halt the flow.   There may be only bunches of scattered dots,  depicting an empty river bed, a dried up source of water OR multiple layers of lines indicating abundant flow and movement.  There might be jagged lines like that of a wild river, difficult to navigate or thrilling to maneuver in, depending on the "who is" that is in relationship to the shape.

I am aware that being in the stream of life will evolve and morph into many different shapes, each with its own unique meaning and relationship for me. Unknown and known.  Formless and formed. Before creation and creation. Being in the stream of life is all of this and some of this and something completely different than this.   The beauty,  I am learning,  is in the mystery. 

Whoa.

Time to hop out for now , get onto some dry land and rest.