The crying chair beckons me to come sit.
This sanctuary, a space for truth and revelation, offers her healing and loving to all who cross her threshold, including me. For the past several weeks, I have been drawn here, in those quiet moments before service to others and in the middle of the night, when the dreaming life isn’t quite enough to resolve all that craves resoulution. I sit for hours, knowing that in this moment, I am fully honest and available to myself, my own game of hide and seek fulfilled.
In those tender moments, my attention is drawn to the imagery and words that vibrate like surround sound, soothing my heart, releasing the breath, compressing me to surrender and just let go. The Great Bell Chant fills the space - inner arguments fall like leaves released by the wind - my heart is at ground zero, the entire sanctuary now the crying chair, holding me while I make peace with the bittersweet that can only be consoled by time and space, and the communal nature of understanding, when wise enough to yield to it.
the earth laughs in flowers, as above so below, everything is waiting for you, dare to believe, angels dance upward, be happy for this moment, this moment is your life.
These living prayers of sight and sound quicken the journey from head to heart, from resistance to freedom, a voyage worthy of making a bit more frequently… if only… to balance, harmonize, and lay the necessary groundwork for the experience of receptivity and Oneness we all silently crave.
It is here that the higher nature comes present, offering organic soulutions to lingering questions beyond the habitual thoughts that swirl about. We are encouraged to perceive through the ever-spacious lens of possibility, trade control for empowerment, and recognize the beauty of the ordinary, including ourselves. We emerge from the chrysalis of longing, renewed and revitalized, prepared to confess our passion and purpose as inspiration draws us toward higher ground and highest good.
The last few weeks have been beautifully powerful and heart rendering. I was asked to craft the memorials for two magnificent women in my life, mentors and spiritual giants, mere mortals among us, experiencing life as we all do - the sun showering their lives with talent and accomplishment, the rains washing away all that was unfinished, the winds bringing forth its buoyancy, reminding them to laugh through every peak and valley they encountered, moments becoming memories, the seasons of their souls fully actualized, life and death, the same blessing.
Whatever we grieve - a beloved, a relationship with self or another, a way of life, an ideology or belief - they all serve as fertile ground, sharpening the blade of truth within, acknowledging the grace of our personal presence at the deepest level, abundant and prosperous. We are invited to honor self and soul, resting in the majesty that defies description.
And so, I am called to share portions of their service, my gift to them as they were utter gifts to me. Bearing witness to another’s life is one of the most powerful experiences of loving we can offer.
There Was Just Love.
She was getting ready to travel, sharing all the nitty gritty details of her physical care - the easy conversations especially when the vulnerable underbelly is feeling quietly fragile. As I was ahhhjusting her, she got brave and shared a dream she had, uncertain and afraid to consider what it might mean, seeking for the interpretation that would quell the unnamed fears swirling about.
Her dear friend who donned her wings a few years prior was present, and they were in a garden. What felt curious was that at one point her friend was sitting quietly on a bench, gently smiling, patting the empty space beside her – that was the dream - voice a little shaky, she wondered, given all the challenges she was experiencing with her physical body, was this a sign? Was her friend encouraging her to join her on the bench?
We were both silent for a moment. She sat up, eyes engaged with mine, quiet yet searching. I called in the Light and offered her this truth: she was the only one who would know the answer - in her spiritual heart she would know, and it would be right and true, because right and true are the only qualities that live there and because of that she would be OK, better than OK. She nodded. We hugged. There was nothing more to say in this tender moment of reconciliation. There was just Love. Weeks later she took the leap of faith that leaves the rest of us wondering…
Resistance. Surrender. Letting go. Inspired.
Enlightened. Rising Once Again. Free.
Let’s be clear – she wanted no parts of this dying thing; it was not consciously on her bucket list. For as awake and aware as she was, the physical diagnosis simply made her angry. She followed doctor’s orders while doing her best to live true to her nature. She tried to ignore the preordained with tenacity and intelligent stubbornness; she was sure her commitment to a well-intentioned life and all the tools she had cultivated deep relationships with in the healing arts would help her bypass the inevitable.
Try as we might, there is no bypassing God.
What I love most about her, a woman who took me in and under her wing, is that she simply loved life! A devotee of the earth and its spirit, overjoyed by the cycles of growing that become ever expanding fractals of magic and mystery, she continuously embraced all that it had to offer - scent, sound, touch, mud, discord, harmony, rolling hills on distant shores, her cozy little garden and home filled with more than she could manage, colorful, enlightened, everything somehow connected to a memory nestled within her heart, a garden in and of itself – raised beds of glory and sunshine, buried roots laced with tenderness and the bittersweet. Her sense of artistry leaves a legacy of blessing, laughter, and kindness and isn’t that the perfect life?
We flourish because we can,
We soar because we said yes...
- Dr. Lauren
ⓒ Dr. Lauren Nappen Please share these words of wisdom with the author included.
Dr. Lauren Nappen