Somewhere between the sun and the moon

Today I asked myself which I prefer more -- the mountains or the ocean. Last year at this time I was in Sedona, Arizona and it was an entirely different experience. I had gone to Sedona with a different purpose than I did this year; how I would explain that purpose I am not sure -- all I knew was that I was searching for something. I went on a spiritual retreat and engaged in something called journey work.

I think in Manhattan they call it therapy, but in the mountains of Sedona it is so much more chic to call it something else! Either way, the end result is the same. You think. Which, after more time thinking I realized you don't really want to be thinking at all.

So ... a year later it is interesting to me to see how different I am in terms of where I am (and not geographically speaking.) As I sat outside listening to the ocean and the birds chirping, I realized I was getting a little chilly. I then flashed back to last year, sitting out in the back yard of the house in Sedona, always dragging the chair to whatever corner of the back yard had the most sun, and laughed at what I was reading back then versus what I am reading now.

Last year it was so much more serious business. This year I am reading Diana Gabaldon's latest -- which is a three-inch thick hard cover and then I am listening to a "bodice ripper" novel on my iPod when I walk the beach. Total immersion in "smut" versus seeking answers.

Do I have all the answers now, a year later? Well, no. I don't think so, but I am in such a different place (and not geographically speaking!)

Which is really, really, really cool if you think about it. One thing that sort of freaks me out is the thought of stagnation -- I want to always be constantly evolving, constantly growing, always moving from point A to point B. I don't think that at any point in my life I could be so confident that true growth has actually happened than between last year and this year. When I returned from Sedona last year it was very hard -- I had a hard time melding back into my life because I wasn't sure that that is where I wanted to be. When you go out seeking answers to your questions, you don't always find any sort of peace. I didn't find ANY sort of peace last year. It was hugely about seeking, seeking, looking, wanting, asking, wondering, feeling, not feeling, being, not being. It was a whirlwind. Not to mention that the entire time we were there, I never slept. Every time I went to sleep in my bedroom, I felt as though I was in a vortex. No, I was in a vortex. The room spun and threw me around in dreams and whatever and I never had a full night's sleep. I often woke up feeling as though I never had any sleep at all.

Every night I sleep like a log here. Right from the get-go. I am so happy to lay in bed and stare out through the screen porch and see the moon over the ocean. Each morning I awake, as though I know I must, to the vision of the orange ball of sun rising. Actually, I usually wake up before that; and to see the pink of the sky before the sun rises is so amazing. I am struck by how exact a sunrise is to a sunset. Except in reverse! And yet, when the sun rises it looks exactly as it does before it sets. It is a huge orange ball on the horizon -- and you can't do anything but stare at it. And you stare, and realize bad things happen when you stare at a sun ball, and then before you know it, it becomes a normal yellow ball and the magic is gone.

This morning I went out to the beach to meditate. I did this because I was being pulled to do so. As I lay in bed with the sun pouring into my eyes, I could feel a pulsing in my body. I was being drawn there. I quickly pulled on some warm clothes, grabbed a warm jacket and a towel to sit on and went to the beach. Spectacular.

I found a spot and sat down indian-style and before I closed my eyes, I looked to the left to see the sun drifting upwards in the sky, and then I looked to my right, and saw the moon -- a little more than half of it in the same alignment as the sun.

Somewhere between the moon and the sun. That is where I was. It was where you would want to be. The gentle sound of the ocean before me, the wind gently blowing about and my body instinctively breathed with the wind and the retreat and unfolding of the waves as they licked toward me. Deep breath.

Anyway, as I sat by the pool and listened to the birds chirp, I thought about last year and sitting in the back yard in Sedona and listening to the birds chirp and it occurred to me what a difference a year makes.

I was more than happy to be sitting in that backyard last year, don't get me wrong. But I was even happier to be in this place at this time in this state of where I am, because whatever has changed within me over the course of a year is a good thing. It's a really good thing. Everything is different in terms of going someplace for a reason. The reason I went away this year was completely different from the reason I went away last year in terms of what it means to go away at all.

I have actually re-read all of these paragraphs and realize they sound a little bit repetitive and ... oh you know, maybe the writer has had a few beers? LOL

No big deal ... I will read this tomorrow and see what it says and if it's not here tomorrow after that then we will know that I changed my mind! Hahahahaha.

Cheers.