My mouth is dry. Despite a sleepless night, gratitude stoically leads, while fog and nausea compete for attention. 3am meditation comes, and I am both relieved and exhausted. Sit. Silent. Quiet. 4:45 am and the body jumps into one hundred sit-ups - grateful for the decades long discipline of physical ability and spiritual guidance - I count...one...two...three...one hundred. Dress. Walk. Fog slowly lifts and exposes full fatigue.
This is the morning after Twenty Questions - A Mile in your shoes. The evening evolved into an intimate gathering of the "rocks of wisdom" - individuals heeding their own inner compass to bare their "sol." Those in attendance were the boulders - the megaliths of the community. Seekers of expansion with compassion for personal limits, these "rocks" welcomed the dissolving of past paradigms to draft a new view. The talk was seamless - flowing with the peaceful energy of acceptance.
Questions prodded and answers came - oozing, gushing, spurting, breezing. All, an outpouring of individual truths. Each respected and held in the ethers for the taking or simply understanding.
I know more now of how little I know. Funny how ignorance works. Every day intelligence knocks and asks "Now?" And my reply is always, "Yes." Because to reject the offer is to summon death - a painfully slow and violent refusal of me. Should the "rocks" meet again hangs in the cosmos - a dangling carrot on the road to self. For now, I sit with the nausea and dehydration, sipping the waters of wisdom, never drinking enough.
