April 23, 2018

Uncharted Waters



Uncharted Waters

It’s about 7:10 a.m. on Friday morning and traffic is light, but I don’t notice. My head is spinning with my latest personal drama, and as I approach Porto Marina, I roll the passenger window all the way down, glance at the ocean, and feel the familiar tug. I pull over, park, and drink in the salty air the way some people down a cappuccino.

Some days before I picked up a small black stone from this same beach with the intention of performing a simple Shamanic ritual. Now it’s time. I take the stone from my center console, climb down the sandy embankment, and walk toward the waves.

When I am facing a problem too big to solve on my own, I visit the ocean.

I began this practice in December 2011, when alimony stopped right after I’d registered as a full-time student. I had no idea how I’d support my family, but the ocean represents abundance, so I went to her. On that winter afternoon, as I turned to leave, I heard a silent voice, “What do you desire for you?” I knew it was the ocean asking. I turned around and looked into the waves. “Just get me through January.” After I paid the January bills, I stopped by again and asked for a semester, then another.

This time I’ve come to the ocean to let something go. I’ve reached a breaking point with someone I love, and if things do not shift, I will need to leave. It’s a deal breaker, a line in the sand. I have to say my truth and stand in it. Otherwise my resentment will eat us both alive.

I hold the stone in both hands, bring it to my lips, and close my eyes. Into the tiny rock I blow my entire relationship: my desired outcome, and my fears. I have only one prayer: Thy Will be Done. I open my eyes, throw the stone as far as I can, say thank you, and drive away.

Later I write an email to my friend.

I don’t recommend emails for important personal communication, but it’s the best I can do. I want to allow time and privacy. Plus, the wording has to be loving, concise, and direct, and this time, I trust my writing more than my mouth.

After an hour on my couch, punching tiny letters into my iPhone, I have a clean fifty-word email. I know it by heart and can stand by my words, so I push “Send.”

Within moments, I feel a rush of liberation. Truth does, in fact, set me free!

I spend twenty minutes deciding how to celebrate: Do I take myself to the Inn for dinner? Perhaps sushi at GoSan’s? What do I want? In the end, I pop two potatoes in the oven and, while they bake, I take Shiloh for a sunset walk on the Santa Maria trail. Every tree radiates joy! Each and every perfect, unique leaf crisp and clear, a gorgeous display of infinite possibility. I breathe it all in, come home to organic taters with raw sauerkraut, and climb into to bed.

On Saturday I don’t hear a response, and I watch as my emotions change like the tides. I stand as still as I can in the waves, my mental water sometimes calm, sometimes churning, rocks often tumbling at my ankles. I meditate and pray more than usual, go about my daily tasks, and take a lot of breaks, doing my best to be gentle.

On a recent call with Dr. Michael Bernard Beckwith, he reminded me that we can project anything we choose to onto the unknown. It’s a blank canvass. People often project their worst fears, setting their vibrational frequency to “misery,” which leads to physical and emotional toxicity. However, it is just as easy to project our heart’s desires. By doing so, we radiate at the higher vibrational frequencies of joy and gratitude. We are blessed with imagination and can dream any dream we like. Albert Einstein said, "The most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe.”

If the universe is friendly, we are safe in the unknown, but if we believe it is not, we feel fear.

The practice of recognizing our power and using it to create the experience of a friendly universe is simple but not easy. Past experience seems like a trustworthy advisor, but don’t be fooled. All memory is fiction. It changes like the waves. Anchor yourself in truth. Truth has a particular vibration. You know it when you hear it. You know it when you feel it. Trust that. Act in alignment with it. Decide the universe is friendly, speak your own truth with kindness, and trust the unknown.

While I know all this, I still don’t sleep well on Saturday, and by Sunday, I’m an emotional wreck. I feel at peace only in meditation. However, I’ve been through this before, so I witness the drama, watching as emotional tidal waves move through Sage. I show up at dance, allow the energy to move through my body, and let go of all illusions of control. By the end of the day, after several hours of prayer and the support of loving angels, my friend and I are both raw with the realization of what is at stake and how fragile and sacred our love is. We hold each other, reconnecting more deeply than ever, both of us receiving the gifts of my latest act of faith. We’re in unknown waters, but we’re in it together, and in the words of songwriter Jon Shea:

There’s light inside that will be my guide;

I will never lose my way.

Where the four winds blow is where I’ll go, and

All I know is I am on my way. I’m sailin’….

Sage Knight is a local ghostwriter and Literary Midwife. She lives with her teenage son and their Golden Retriever at Top O’ Topanga. You can visit her at www.SageKnight.com.