Made an early morning trip to a trail not far from my house. Since it was one of the first areas I explored on my own, it holds a special place in my heart. I find something new every time I return. This time, I found a side trail that was a quick vertical ascent. It brought me to a beautiful ridge facing the rear of Cathedral Rock.
I walked along the edge of the Mesa until I found a space that was "just right." Like that Goldilocks planet that was in the news recently. The right conditions for life. At least for me, at that moment. I stretched a little and did some deep breathing to release tension from my body.
As I sat down and did Brain Wave Vibration meditation, I remembered what Cathedral Rock is supposed to represent. It is an important feminine vortex that heals or helps you with energy from your past. I relaxed my shoulders and meditated; thoughts flooded through my mind and I realized how much I needed to be here. It was time to let go of some patterns that kept getting reflected in my relationships and actions. Time to change the lens I had been looking through. It was time to change the theme song I was working with.
The first time I approached Cathedral Rock, it was a momentous climb. My friend and I each faced and released an old fear. That climb taught me, experientially, how one step beyond the limits of our fears can bring immense freedom and opportunity. Before I took that step, I focused on what was not possible. After that step, I began to see "impossible" as a fluid concept. Years later, I have learned to practice letting go, passing through the boundaries of the possible, recognizing my reality as a mirror.
So, I looked at myself as I meditated, spine aligned and head open to the sky. I saw what I was re-creating and made the choice to change. I know this is not easy to do, even if we choose in our minds, it may be difficult to take action. That's where I have faith in the power of our lives as metaphor. After my meditation, I put on some music and did Ki Gong and Dahn Mu; I danced my new choice. I took action on my new outlook. And the beautiful red earth bore witness.
This trail, my special trail is called Baldwin Trail. I do not know who it was named after. However, I cannot help but think of the great American literary pioneer, James Baldwin. Not that he was ever literally in this spot. But that the deep soul searching reflected in his writing is similarly invoked on this trail.
Descending to the main trail, I remarked at how subtle that turn-off was and how I "should" have followed the large cairns nearby. Powerful distraction, this soul searching. I happened upon a young woman carrying a baby on her back, wandering along the side trails. She commented on how easy it is to lose the main trail here. I responded that each side path offers so much beauty, that nothing is "lost." We both smiled and I took the trail back to its origin while she followed a side path into a pine forest.
