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Meanderings

Yay for more small victories

Today was a good day in terms of big little milestones in my ongoing recovery from Lyme disease…

I was able to drive around 60-70 miles without any fatigue, very promising for being able to get back on the road in my little camper-home.

Also managed to walk nearly a mile this early evening in 90 degree weather without my energy plummeting or feeling sick. That’s a big one for me because until recently I couldn’t even go outside unless it was below 85 and only for about 20 minutes at that.

That brings a lot of quiet joy because I very much miss my jaunts in nature. She is my true love, my forever love, and my soul. Without her I am nuttin’.

I celebrated with a sunset view on the shore of Newnans lake, here’s a short video of solitude below for you.

Thank you for following me on this journey — I truly appreciate it.

-Ray

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Meanderings

Dancing with Indian spirits

Crossing over Maine into Canada, I ended up on Campobello island which is an international park (named Roosevelt Campobello International Park and it’s jointly run by the Canadians and Americans). It’s famous for being the summer home of the Roosevelts of presidential fame. You can tour their home which is preserved as if they still vacationed there.

The also island has a deep history as a home for native Indians for hundreds of years until present. It’s a beautiful location surrounded by nature and water.

This was where I camped for the first time in Canada and also the first time I dealt with native American spirits on this journey.

They showed up the very first night. I was sound asleep in my camper, wiped out from a long day of hiking the island. A few hours later, I was awoken from a deep slumber by the vibration and sound of powerful drums pounding away.

Groggily, I got up and looked outside to see where the party is. I opened the door and looked around — complete darkness and silence. Everyone was apparently asleep and there was no party of drunkards making noises.

I went back to bed, figuring it was just a dream or something.

The drums started up again after I fell asleep, camper walls pounding. Was someone playing a damn joke? I got up and looked around again.

Nothing. Nada.

Fuck this, I said and slid back into my bed.

Fuck no said the drums, as the pounding resumed.

Finally it hit me… Those drums… They sound awfully like ceremonial drums the Indians used. Maybe they know I’m receptive to spirits and are calling out to me?

I closed my eyes and deliberately fell into a half-sleep half-meditative trance.

The drums became louder and louder to where I felt them pounding inside and all around me. Then the Indians appeared, they were dancing all around in their ceremonial gear and paint.

They beckoned to me, dancing and waving me over. Swallowing my initial surprise, I tossed all semblance of normalcy away and jumped right in. (Yes, I may be crazy but I may as well join in the fun.)

They placed a beautiful ceremonial hand-woven robe over my shoulders and I started dancing away to the tune of their drums, following them around their land and around their campfires.

Not a word was said — it was all dance, music, drums, and smiles and laughs. All night.

And it was so very real.

I don’t remember how long I was out, but by the time we were done and I fell back in my bed with joyful exhaustion, a few hours had passed and the drums were finally silent.

I woke up late the next morning, but dang, I slept so well and felt rejuvenated. The first thing on my mind upon waking was the Indians and pondering how the hell it happened. It was too real to deny. I even looked around a bit for maybe some momentos from the night lying around but nothing.

I silently thanked the Indians for a beautiful night and a wonderful welcome into their land — I know they heard me because they’re still there in spirit, it is their home after all.

Crazily enough, it was one of the best times of my life dancing through the night with them, real or not.

I plan on returning for another round of dancing and drumming on Campobello island soon. : )

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Meanderings

Heart torn wide open

A recent dream reminded me of an old flame of mine who was one of the great loves of my life. It was one of those tumultuous relationships with a lot of soul and ups and downs.

Some might call us karmic soulmates brought together to learn from past lives to face unresolved issues and challenges both on a life and soul level.

I read something from Andrew Harvey’s “Sun at Midnight – a memoir of the dark night” that struck me as defining our relationship through my eyes — it was a message delivered from the divine through a dream to him about his own relationship:

[She] is the spear through which I have opened your heart. Now it can never close.

She broke my heart wide open, showing me a love I had never known before. She didn’t do it with finesse – it was blunt and at times terrifying. It was raw and honest. She tore through my walls and left an indelible mark. We challenged each other, at times pushing each other off metaphorical cliffs to burn off our own insecurities and fallacies.

Our souls were intangibly woven together through many past lives; we had a deep metaphysical connection to one another.

Long story short, our paths eventually diverged sharply — we each had our own lives to live and callings to follow. We were no more.

I still think about her from time to time. I’ll also feel her now and then when she thinks of me. It’s that kind of connection.

I don’t know if we will ever circle back, she’s tried and I’ve tried but circumstances and boundaries and bad timing made it not to be. It’s as if life deliberately placed an invisible buffer between us. Perhaps it’s for another lifetime and we’ve done our part in this one?

Life goes on as it always does. Sometimes I struggle when I fall in the grips of the past through sudden memories or when I feel her, but I’ve learned to flow through it. To trust — to surrender and hand it over to the Beloved, to keep living my life to the fullest.

And most of all, to honor the greatest gift from all this by keeping my heart torn wide open to true love.

It’s all I ever wanted.

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Meanderings

View from this evening’s meditation

…on Lake Newnan in Gainesville, Florida

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Meanderings

“Coffee is not your friend”

At a session today, I updated my acupuncture physician on how well things were going healing-wise with little victories along the way.

There was an exception, I told her. The time a few days ago I sat outside a cafe for about an hour writing. I splurged on a coffee, something I hadn’t had in a good while. I felt it was well deserved after having a good week and most of you know of my great fondness for coffee.

I paid the price… After an hour I felt my energy suddenly drain and I didn’t feel so good anymore. I knew exactly why because it happened weeks ago when I cheated on coffee outdoors.

As I finished describing what happened, she uttered those dreaded words:

“Coffee isn’t your friend.”

She reminded me how caffeine, while giving a nice spike, ends up draining my energy big time since I’m not yet at 100% full strength.

She used a great analogy — drinking coffee is like taking money from my savings account and putting it in the checking account only to be spent away.

She repeated: “Coffee isn’t your friend.” Ouch.

As much as I love coffee, my health comes first now, a lesson I am still learning at times. I will heed her advice (rather reluctantly I confess).

In the meantime I’ll continue to drink hot teas as my morning substitute. A double bag of peppermint tea with a bit of honey does the trick quite well and I’ve come to look forward to it.

One of these days when I’m back to full strength, I’ll have that sweet (or is it acidic?) reunion with a great love of mine in coffee now and then on a cool afternoon.

Until then, it’s sweet dreams thereof.

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Meanderings

Trying to reconnect with nature

This evening I walked through a preserve to the edge of a lake and sat on a bench to begin my quiet communion with nature.

Beauty was everywhere — waves breaking across a vast surface, tall trees all around, an osprey flying by with fish in mouth, vultures sailing in lazy circles above, sun’s shadow fading from the horizon… The wind was blowing briskly, adding another dimension to the senses.

Yet my connection to it all wasn’t as sharp, as deep as it usually is where my soul would sing with nature and body would vibrate in harmony. It was far more subtle, as if reaching through a fog.

I’ve noticed this happens when I haven’t been in nature as much as I usually do; due to heat issues my usual forays deep within have been on hold. It’s not all bad — the past couple weeks I’ve been able to venture out to the lake and such in early evenings now.

As they say when recovering from something long term — rejoice in the small victories (and these are great ones for my sore soul). I delight in each of those victories and the first time back to the lake there were tears in my eyes at such a sweet reunion.

And yet, the connection.. It’s fuzzy.

I know why — it’s like meditating. When you stop for awhile or do it sporadically, the connection within is not as strong, it fades. Like a muscle weakening from lack of use. It takes time to reconnect, to go deep again.

I find that’s what’s happening with nature. The connection never goes away like a permanent radio signal (after all, we are from nature), but it can fade.

I try to go to the lake shore each evening and I can feel the connection slowly rebuilding and the bliss subtly rise within.

I’m truly looking forward to those days when I had total immersion with her, my beloved. It’s been a long journey back, but it’s coming.

Once something gets into my bones, it becomes a forever love.