There’s something about open sky, the stars suggesting infinite possibilities and reminding me of my mortality simultaneously, that opens up a channel I don’t normally have access to. I wish I could record some of the conversations I have in the desert. Let’s call them “desert musings.”
I hadn’t been feeling so zen as of late, but even in that space, I found a way to articulate the i-betweenness I feel moored in. And unlike what happens normally — when I lend my words to be carried away on the wind and evaporate like a poem there was no time to write down — this time I took notes.
(I’m calling it Desert Musings #2 because there’s another one that I hope to remember soon that happened before this one.)
Like in the Bermuda Triangle, there are disturbances. Disturbances in the field that have been interferring with my inner compass, my instruments for finding the way.
Part of this is just life of course. In general, I have a strong ability to receive signals and messages from the field (universe?) But sometimes, I feel like I have “more” than the “normal” person (whatever that means).
Now I’m in a time period of recalibration. I have this sense, similar to when one has to walk around looking for reception. Maybe going up to a mountain/hill will help. But I feel like I’m expected / being asked to stay here, in one place, to find reception by staying where I am.
Except it doesn’t work like that.
If you cannot hear — go higher.
Shoshana Sarah 