Year before last, during autumn, I stood on top of Cadillac Mountain in Maine. Looking eastward the ocean sparkled as if some ship had just sprinkled a load of diamonds on top of the sea water, and they rode the great waves causing the sun to reflect off them. It is a sight I carry within me at night, as I close my eyes to sleep.
I'm going back there soon, but first I must take a break to clear my system of the cancer that is robbing it of a healthy lifestyle. I long to sit in my cabin and watch the buds form on the cherry trees, while keeping an eye on the fawns and fledglings that newly arrive each day.
All of this is a process, a cycle. We are never sure of the outcome, but we are sure that we are carried on our jouney as part of the larger landscape. The one we rarely get to see.
I feel the quiet of new birth as it enters this world, and feel blessed to be a part of it. For, as I said, there is always something greater that we do not get to view.
As Rumi said, "Out, beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there's a field--I'll meet you there."
My cabin holds all of my secrets, and all of my dreams. If you open the door and peek inside watch out! One of these secrets or gems may escape and take you with them. But not to worry, all of them are valuable.
