Tuesday afternoon and Phoebe is having her daily playdate with her doggie boyfriend. Blue sky with that unmistakable feeling of spring in the air. The dogs are wildly chasing each other through the large fenced yard, her with her body crouched low like a greyhound to reach maximum speed, when a large lounge chair is suddenly in her path.
Without hesitation she lifts high into the air with the grace of a gazelle landing lightly on the other side, not missing a beat. It was beautiful to see. As if the chair wasn’t even there. She cleared it with ease, ears blown back by the wind and her nose pointed with purpose.
I was trying to describe it the next day to a neighbor and I said it was as if she had jumped a…………. I couldn’t think of the word. You know, the things those runners jump over. The word escaped me. Yeah, he said, I know what you mean but I can’t think of it either. A…….a………
It finally came to me. A hurdle.
Little did I know that a large one was about to be plunked down directly in my own path.
For this past month life’s curtain was drawn back to show me new possibilities. A peek into what could be and I liked what I saw. The potential for change. For letting go and moving forward. Scary, exciting, unknown, freeing and messy all mashed together on a plate laid on my table. It appeared that one of my visions was about to manifest and I was ready.
But Friday the curtain was abruptly pulled shut. A lumpy, heavy, unmovable life hurdle was put in its place.
We all have them and they so often come out of nowhere, with little to no warning. We are making our way around the track with grace and ease, feeling in control of the race until…..we aren’t. So what do we do when we turn that corner and find one right at our feet?
Well first I cried. A lot. I would stop and get myself together until only moments later it would all come rushing back in. Like waves. I spent the day letting them flow when they arrived, since trying to hold a wave back is like asking to be knocked to the ground and you end up with a nose full of water. My nose was full enough with tears, thank you very much. And when I finally felt cleared, I stood up and shook myself off. And went to yoga.
This is a moment in time we have a choice to make. We can remain a puddle on the floor, we can get angry, we can turn around and go backward, we can blame the hurdle/someone/the world/all of the above, or we can root down to lift off and clear the hurdle with forward momentum. I am choosing forward.
I write a lot on trusting the Universe completely. That everything happens for a reason. While I am making my way over this hurdle I am having an extremely difficult time seeing the reason, but that is where faith is put to the test. Can I let go and continue following my heart. Continue seeing my vision. Not allowing the actions of the outside world to determine the state of my inner world. Am I able to do what I teach.
This hurdle is not life threatening and I know I will land on the other side – although perhaps not quite as gracefully as Phoebe. But I have now glimpsed what is behind the curtain. I have tasted it. Now it is up to me to find my own way there. And I will.
Continuing to step forward and watch for guidance………………and keeping the tissue handy.
Seeing what I want,