The morning is crisp. The air has a residue of chaos from last night's light show. The wind is gentle, but nonetheless it is there, moving the trees and swaying the grass. The ground is damp, evidence of this is sprawled across my living room floor in the form of paw prints. I didn't wipe their paws well enough I guess. I feel bad for not getting out on the lake yesterday eve, today isn't nearly as paddle enticing. At the same time, I love these dismal days, they're my chance to fit in a daily practice twice as long and get some words out of my head and onto paper (or onto screen).
My thoughts and ideas have me confused lately. I've been doing a lot of thinking about direction, about purpose, about my dharma. I feel part way there. Part way to knowing exactly where I'm meant to be. The other part is still an open adventure though. I'm attempting to point my compass north. This isn't a bad thing. I welcome this awakening with unfurled excitement and ardor. It does feel however, like each move I make is slightly more wishy-washy than before. This is because that part of me - the open adventure part - is just moving with that temperate wind. With every gust it's moved in a different direction, carried to a new place (see my last post) and each of these new places is untrodden and unique. It's undeniable that while I'm exploring these unfamiliar locales I'm being introduced to novel thoughts, ideas and behaviours. I'm leaving no stone unturned and with the turning of each stone I'm exposed to information that's a little deeper and a little more profound. It opens me to myself and I'm consciously introduced to the adventure part of my being. What I'm realizing is that I admittedly like this part; I feel an almost acroamatic connection with it and I'm compelled to deepen this kinship.
I welcome this placid breeze. I want it to flow through my hair and caress my skin. I welcome the ventures this wind will bring about. I want them to move me, just as today's wind is moving the trees and the grass.
Sometimes I have to recheck my intentions.
I start out on the right path, a path I feel passionate about. This path, at first, seems rational and obtainable and I genuinely believe that if I put one foot in front of the other I will be capable of moving down this path with relative ease and contentment. Naturally, this path has sub-paths; paths I'm permitted to explore that don't veer me too far from my main path. That's ok, I feel settled with the balance between pursuit and adventure. I feel motivated and inspired. I feel ready.
Fast forward. I'm questioning this main path. I'm questioning why I'm dead set on following this path. In a world where there are SO many paths to take, so many trails to meander down, why this path?
I then attempt to remind myself why I chose this path in the first place. What was my original intention for pursuing this route? I'm baffled to learn that there isn't a clear answer anymore. The path I was so intent on pursuing is covered with thick fog and I'm unable to see through the denseness. It's grey now. No black or white to be seen.
Where to go from here, I scratch my chin and wonder. There are endless possibilities, that's what I'm told. The world is my oyster. With so many opportunities it's difficult to take a next step. Especially when you're so accustomed to following that one path. I scratch my chin again. I have to recheck my intentions. I have to broaden my scope of thinking and consider who I am now and how I can live a harmonious life that is satisfying and fulfilling.
I'm at a crossroads of infinite routes. It isn't a straight fork in the road. It's a goddamn mass intersection with what feels like infinite forward options. Each minuscule change in foot angle will carry me down a different road. It's exciting, but also incredibly terrifying.
The only thing I can think to do at this point is listen to my heart. To let my heart angle my foot. To let my heart carry me down the path that's right for me at this moment. For all I know my heart may change it's mind and I'll be back at that same intimidating intersection. And then...
I'll allow it to pick a new angle, a new route.
This recheck of my intentions has allowed me to understand that my intention must always be trust - trust in myself, trust in my heart and soul. Without trust I'm working against myself. Without trust I will always be working against myself.
No matter where my heart prompts me to venture, I will strive to appreciate, respect and embrace what it is telling me. I will listen to what it has to say and I will try with all my might to minimize the influence of outside pressures.
No matter where my heart prompts me to venture, I will willingly walk with a smile on my face. I intend to trust.
The honest learnings and raw reflections of my practice and my life. Unedited.