Story time….!

The story of Phoenix the monk.

P.S. Two potential traps to watch out for….

1. Beating ourselves up.

2. Self obsession.

Do you wake in the middle of the night, your mind full of worries?

I do.

Do you toss and turn, trying to relax, to sleep, but your mind is too wild, too persistent, too strong?

I do.

When I wake like this, I can feel my mind searching for things I ‘should’ be worrying about. 

This peomish describes my experience and offers a solution to the problem. (long and narrow!)

 

 

Labyrinth:

 

Where I live, a range of mountains stretches as far as the eye can see. 

They are Huge.

So high, no trees grow there, no moss, no lichen.

Nothing.

The slopes are a steep scree which slips and slides without provocation. 

Along the top there is a narrow ridge.

I find myself there.

The most dangerous places are where the rain has made deep grooves that run down the mountain side, insisting on repeating its path again and again, deepening the grooves with every rain fall.

On the ridge the wind blows strong, the sound of the slipping shale blows away.

I am alone.

Gravity is sucking at me.

At the bottom, on both sides of the mountain, is an endless labyrinth.

Its 3 am.

Did I say Endless?

Sinuous tunnels of reasonable fear, sensible doubt and obligatory worries.

One careless thought and I’m in.

Slip!

Sucked down and in and swallowed whole.

Convinced by the walls that surround me.

Unwittingly I wander for hours.

Alone.

My guts are a bottomless pit.

My mouth is full of heart.

I tread paths that turn out to be circular, following my own trail believing I have found it for the first time 

I am lost.

I did it wrong.

I made a mistake.

I can’t get out.

I made a bad choice.

Its All gone wrong.

I am trapped.

I am frightened.

I feel sick.

My name is Terror.

Alone.

At 3 am.

In the labyrinth.

Of my mind.

Then.

Something glinted.

Didn’t it?

Did it?

Was that a trick of the light?

Somehow,

Thank Goddess!

I go to investigate and there lies a thread so bright.

Fine and golden I reach and touch her.

Immediate intravenous relief.

Between my fingers, I can almost not feel her, so fine, she is, but strong.

Gossamer.

I follow the trail, the thread gets thicker and Now I can hear the call.

The whisper.

The mantra.

The sutra. 

Thank You for Now.

My heart returns to my chest.

With every step, every breath, every thought I follow.

Ariadne’s thread back from the Minotaur.

Thank You for Now

The thread is a rope guiding me, pulling me.

Thank You NOW.

I’m back on the ridge, the rope in my hand, drawing me on.

Step, by breath, by thought.

I follow now, hand over hand,

The rope is a harness doing its thing.

Thank You Now, Thank You Now, Thank You Now.

The wind blows strong, the mountainsides slip,

but I steadfast maintain my grip.

Thankyounowthankyounowthankyounow

NOWNOWNOW

An echo, on and on.

Each breath.

Every thought redirected.

The harness sinks into my flesh, becomes my bones, my structure, my reason.

Knees collapse in humility, Heart lifted in awe.

I lie face down on the ridge clasping both sides with appreciative hands.

This is a wild ride.

Life.

Being human.

Experiencing experience.

Thank You Now For Being Exactly As You Are.

Thank you dearest Now.

I am at home.

Not alone

All one. 

Because Gratitude floods me, and I carries me with Her waters.

It can’t go wrong,

Life.

I am part of it all.

Thank you.

The Altar of surround sound.

(and another story about a different Phoenix)