The minister has been quiet.
Lately I haven’t been reading any literature that speaks to my spirituality. I haven’t been absorbing material that lends to my spiritual growth.
I haven’t been meditating.
I haven’t been looking deeply into my dreamscape to unravel the language of the disjointed events that lay within.
It seems as if I have been cheating myself, in a way. I ask myself if I’m not interested in centering myself, in holding space, in spiritual growth at this time.
I approach the pulpit, readying the questions in my mind as to how best to ignite that flame, to turn the tinder into fuel that sets in motion my appetite for knowledge to expand my spiritual seekings.
But the minister of myself is not there.
It seems strange that I don’t have the minister standing at my back, whispering the scriptures of accumulated wisdom and enlightenment in my ear at every turn, making sure to correct me on my path as I walk down it with a blindfold loosely draped over my visage, toe at the ready to slam into the boulders of my foolish decisions, my loose words dropped on the cobblestones of my interactions leaving shard of glass in the road of thoughts and considerations formed only in their retrospect.
What at first felt like abandonment of the basic right of being provided healthy moral guidance began to appear as otherwise. It’s not to say that all my decisions were completely sound and in no need of course correction or consideration. Rather, it was in the form of a note left to me by the minister, to say that my minister was taking a break from me.
The note said “Just do as you do. I’ll be back when you need me.”
I felt like I was flailing in the wind in the same manner as the note I was holding. Again, how did my own minister figure he was not needed by me right now?
Then I realized he must have read my last post, or he had a hand in it somehow. “Just do as you do.” Just go about my business, go about my day as usual. The message was the most bizarre form of guidance I had received yet. Guidance in the form of release for this time being. I was to carry on without worrying about each step, without analyzing and course correcting with every move, without dissecting each decision and each moment with a stunning array of value judgments.
The idea was to experience my experiences, the way one would thoroughly chew each bite of a meal without considering calories or carbs or fat content. Shrug at the right moves, shrug at the wrong moves, let the wake flow behind me without looking at the shape of the waves made. Some boats will rock a bit in it, some folks will jump the big waves, some will fish on the shores without paying me any mind. For we cannot travel the waters without leaving a wake. It cannot be done. We can be considerate as we look ahead at where we are steering and guiding our vessel, but once the wave is made, it will carry itself through the water and leave its impact where it does. We cannot reverse the wave or its effect. We can simply continue to look forward and consider the rights-of-way to which we need to yield while continuing to maintain our course. Even if our course is to drift for a moment, bobbing on the water with no place in particular to go until a need arises.
So here I am. I would like to say the minister would be proud of my revelation, but the minister is on vacation. So for now I will doff my hat to my own recognition and continue on my merry way.