It has been a week of profundity. [Pocket Oxford Dictionary: profound – deep; of great insight or knowledge, demanding much thought, hard to penetrate or understand or unravel; heartfelt.]

Today the sun is coming up over the horizon of my life, and although the remaining trail to the top of the hill is a little hard to see, I have hiked enough to know what to do. Rest if I need to, have a drink of water, rearrange the pack on my back, noticed the little things of beauty right here beside me. Pull my eyes back and see the entire landscape – the pattern of the path will become visible.

Almost three years ago I moved rather abruptly from the state of Oregon (my home for over 23 years) to Arizona. I imagined going on as I had been, doing as I always had, but with a fresh approach. I pictured myself living as I always had, however with a wisdom and spirituality making me a better person within the parameters within which I was comfortable. I did not even consider there were others.

Instead the Universe or Gods or however you describe them, decided that the move geographically would also bring a major shift in those parameters, by refusing to allow me the security and comfort of the known. To do that, first it all went away. A wise woman told me, ‘Your old magic doesn’t work anymore, does it? There will be a period of time when it seems as if nothing works, when the old won’t serve you, when you will wonder what on earth you are meant to be doing. Be patient. A lot is happening and in a few years you will see it.’

Barely seven months later I left Arizona and traveled back to my native Australia, where I spent intense emotional time with my family in the south and then traveled north into Queensland. I worked as a bartender and waitress, a council worker/gardener where  no-one knew or cared what I had done before I arrived there. I drove back south through the center, visiting Uluru, Lake Eyre and the Flinders Ranges. After eight months I said goodbye and arrived back in Oregon in time for my daughter’s 21st birthday.

Back to Arizona, and a job looking after horses at a small private school deep in canyon country near Sedona. Not teaching, bringing my years of experience and expertise in the arts to the small campus where I also lived, but employed in manual labor, reconnecting in a hands-on way with the earth and horses. In the process, having to once again shed the job description(s) that had costumed me as a certain persona, spending time in sadness and loss, confusion and anxiety, and with Just Me.

Slowly I began to notice the shift from being internally focused and struggling to Make Things Happen, to simply Being. Celebrating the sky and earth, rocks and water, sun and wind. Realizing that the work I did, the people and animals with whom I lived, worked and played were teaching me, opening and stretching me, deeper into myself than I had been in many years.

I continued to write, to do some workshops and consultancies. I ventured back into live theatre as an actress again, and I stopped searching. The book slowly took shape but at many points in the writing of it, ceased altogether. In those periods, and I began to see the pattern, I had to take time from ‘writing about’ and live the concepts – walk the talk as it were.

The final Chapter however has eluded me completely. I have it at the editor, the publishing plan, but can’t get the last piece written. Ok, so more ‘walk the talk’ to do.

This week, after intimations of change hovering all around, above and beneath me, I have emerged. I just came back from five days in the desert, at one of the most beautiful and hard to get to hot springs I know. I went there with intention, to honor the second year since my father’s death. Last year it happened I was there almost by accident as I drove back to Arizona from Oregon after a quick month-long trip out there to direct a play.

This time last year I was sad, lost and very much in limbo. From the life I used to have, revisited by engaging back into theatre in the place that I lived successfully for so long, I was going back to that odd place of no-thing/no-body, to do what? Beyond the obvious, I didn’t know.

I hiked and sat in the desert and hot springs. I knew I was so very lucky to have a place to live, a basic wage earned by working and playing with my dearest animal friends, horses. And yes, the incredible land itself.

Wait a minute – there is also Kate.

With that little voice singing softly, a year ago I drove on to Arizona. Since then I have learned to enjoy Kate. It hasn’t been easy and I am not pretending it hasn’t also been fraught with doubt, fear of the future, guilt and loneliness. Mostly though, the time and the space has been like a nest of sorts. I nestled into a routine, added a few flights out and about, and returned to center more easily and with more confidence each time.

This year returning from the desert back to the nest within which I have been growing, the shift is visible, tangible and very real. While out in that same desert this year, I was able to truly honor my father and also let him go. My sadness and sense of loss is cleaner and free of my own loss of self, and more made of the missing of him rather than myself in him.

I hiked in directions from the spring that I had not taken before, camped in a new spot, and took all the photos of the drive in and out again with fresh eyes and a lighter heart.

I came home to the sun on the horizon. Just before I left this time there was this new light in the skies above me. I had intimations I would be returning to the end of the wilderness in which I have been rediscovering myself.

Today this has been confirmed. The coming together of the various shifts and changes, the conversations and time alone, have worked their magic to bring me closer to my emergence. The How and then exact When is yet to unfold. But the great joy of being right where I am, of looking forward with confidence and excitement to the unknown, is vibrantly alive in my Soul.

And that is the key. My Soul. Sometimes we need to separate from the known, from our way of being in the world, of the ego-self living in the society in which it is named and rewarded. Sometimes we have to allow the unknown changes to evolve out of sight, pay attention to the hints and then agree that is all there is to ‘know’ for now. Sometimes, the awareness that we have emerged is sudden and complete, like lightening; sometimes it is a slow sunrise over the hill.

My Self, the self of the Soul and Spirit, has taken time to both shed and re-position the self of the ego, as well as to embrace in the future that no-one can know, but we can all feel.

The final section of the Personal Magic book is ready to be written because this section of the talk has been walked. And before long that bright light will be fully over my hill as I emerge from the shadowed wilderness.

There will be more trail to follow once I am over this hill (thank goodness!) and there will be days that will become dark. However, now my tools are better honed, the experience of the past three years imprinted upon me in ways that are both freeing and guiding. I am closer than ever to my Spirit and we shall not be parted, even if the wilderness descends upon me again. There is no going back. A profound emergence indeed.

(back in August I wrote a blog called Shifting Balance – and now today!)

Advertisements