Waking up at four in the morning from the rain and wind, creating a wild song that reminded me a lot of the rhythm “Chaos” in the 5Rhythms movement practice, in which a wave consists of five rhythms: flow, staccato, chaos, lyrical and stillness. Chaos has always been my least favorite part of the wave, finding it challenging to move to music that feels jarring not only to my body but my senses as well. Usually I would either resist it or eventually surrender to it. Last night the raindrops hitting the metal roof from the trees above in loud chaotic patterns and fitful waves, combined with the unpredictable gusts of wind making the cabin moan and groan, made sleeping rather challenging.
The sudden sound effects kept pulling me out of sleep again and again, causing my mind to try to identify the unruly sounds of the night and wrestling with the thoughts and fears they evoked. At one point going back to sleep seemed impossible, as my mind had latched onto the question that had been swirling around for a day, of what it means to ascend.
Earlier in the day I had read about this week’s photo challenge “Ascend”, which had awakened in me that particular question, never mind figuring out a photo that would fit this theme. My first response was wanting to google the word “ascend” as an easy way out, so that my mind would rest and let me go back to sleep. But I knew this wouldn’t be enough, something was prompting me to listen to the answer inside of me. After a while of listening to the wild noise outside and contemplating the question, I had to admit, that “I don’t know!”, and this opened up a space to see some things I couldn’t see before.
Remembering how much I resisted having to clear the path to the meditation area earlier that day, which was totally overgrown and the jungle had reclaimed it when no-one was paying attention or using it anymore. Wrestling with spiky leaves from the giant century plant and thorny raspberry canes that would tear my flesh and clothing, adding to the “not wanting to do this” and feeling too tired from the super long bus rides into town, not to mentioned the rain which added to the discomfort and resistance.
As the day was coming to an end and it was getting to hard to see, I suddenly noticed a shift in me. Looking around the space I had uncovered and created, I sensed a new spaciousness inside of me and the resistance that was so present earlier, was no where to be found.
Lying there in bed in those early morning hours, I could suddenly see how removing each thorny bush, thick ferns and weeds was also clearing out my own inner entanglement of thoughts, fears, beliefs and desires, 
which is exactly what meditation helps us do. Just as my resistance to the noise of the wind and rain was exactly the chaos I needed to wake up and shake out the last remaining ties or blockages, which is exactly what chaos in 5 Rhythms dancing gives us the opportunity to do, which then can lead to inner stillness even when the wind is rocking my little cabin.
Remembering the work of the last thirty days here, all the clearing and weeding of the jungle, as well as bagging pig dirt (the earth that the wild pigs loosen from the lava rocks and we can then use for planting), I feel such gratitude and can see the perfection of it all. How everything is helping me on my path, repeatedly prompting me to love life and what is, love what I am a part of creating and becoming, even if it looks like pig dirt and embracing this impulse to clear the barriers, to evolve and ascend.
Thinking of what happened after I stopped clearing the meditation area, brought a big smile to my face. Hurrying back to my cabin to get out of my wet clothes and change into something dry and warm,
I disturbed a gecko, who had been lounging on my chair and promptly escaped into the pile of clothing that were there. Seeing his tail sticking out of my pajama pants, I couldn’t help but laugh at the humour of it all and carried my little friend outside, before he got into more mischief. What better way to remind me of not getting too comfortable or fall asleep, but a Gecko in my pajama pants!
I also began noticing the difference in me now as I listened to the rain and wind’s wildness with a sense of openness and gratitude for waking me up and helping me see, that as I am clearing the path and the meditation area, I am clearing the trail to my own inner stillness and center.
After writing down some of these awarenesses, I turned off my headlamp and for a little while I could still see the light in my mind’s eye, even though the cabin was once again wrapped in darkness shaking like a leaf in the wind. I wondered for a moment if the light was perhaps shining from my third eye and showing me the way to ascension. This idea brought a soft smile to my face, as I drifted into sleep, listening to the beautiful awakening sound of chaos.
In response to the Weekly Photo Challenge: Ascend
So here it goes: On the day I got sick, my elderly dog Frodo also showed signs of not feeling well. This didn’t surprise me. We have been sick at the same time before and I wonder sometimes about the strong link between us. Frodo stopped eating that day and did not drink or eat for two days. He was getting weaker and weaker and we had to help him get up and take him outside to do his business. The snow did not help matters, making it even more difficult for him to walk. As I was lying on the couch watching him decline, I began to accept that his time here with us might be coming to an end. The power and phone line went out for a few days as well and when it came back on, I decided it was time to let my sons know about Frodo. Soon after I sent out the message the power went out for the second time and Frodo surprised us by suddenly showing interest again in food and water. As soon as he was getting better, I was getting worse.
We had a surprising amount of snow, at least eighteen inches over a few days and much more on other parts of the island. Sometimes the snowflakes were as big as feathers. While watching them float gently to the earth I was reminded of one of my favourite childhood fairy tales “Frau Holle” or “Mother Hulda” in which a girl meets and lives with an old woman and when she shakes out her blanket it snows. I always loved the image of a Sky Goddess shaking out her huge feather blanket and somewhere in the world it would snow. In our world many branches and trees were cracking and breaking off under the white weight making our long driveway impassable. It felt like life had ground to a halt.
I noticed right away that something was different: not what I saw but how I saw. The trees, ducks, water, the white landscape all looked the same, yet everything was so clear, like someone had cleaned a really dirty window or lens that I have been looking out of probably most of my life. I gazed at everything intently and suddenly knew what was so different: I was seeing the world before me without any resistance. It was so beautiful to see without any layer of judgement or preconceived notions. I was able to see that being without resistant to life lets love flow freely. It was remarkable to see the trickery of the mind, always wanting to change or improve reality or improve others or myself. It felt like a huge relief and joy to accept reality as it is. It wasn’t like being in the flow of life, but being the flow.
Drawing Back The Curtain 