This is not right.
I’ve spent six weeks this summer touring parts of this country on my own personal Vision Quest and, as Week 7 dawned, I knew I had to return to the real world. What’s not right is that I don’t want to go back.
It’s not that I hate my home life. I love my family and the comforts of home. My husband is my best friend and I am forever grateful to him for not fighting me on this spiritual quest of mine. I adore my sons. They are good kids and fun to hang out with. And, no matter how much I fight it, I love my day job. Teaching gives me the opportunity to really get to know a multitude of amazing people.
If I’ve learned anything on my journey this summer it’s that my life is pretty good. As the summer wraps up, I’ll be writing more about this trek, highlighting those moments that brought me clarity. But as I head back this week, I can’t think about anything but what’s not right.
There’s a niggling feeling tugging at the back of my heart that there’s something I need to do. It doesn’t make sense, really. Here on Earth, in this reality we’ve created for ourselves, there are things like jobs and loved ones and experiences and responsibilities. Most of us live life for these things – the day-to-day humdrum activities that give us purpose, the special activities like concerts and parties that brighten our dreary lives, the highlights like weddings and births that remind us how special our lives are. Those things are precious. No doubt about it.
Something just doesn’t feel right, though.
I know what it is. I know that if I try to explain it to my family and friends, some will understand, others will roll their eyes and wonder if I’ve gone off the deep end in this spiritual/religious/metaphysical reality in which I live.
You see, I feel there is something I need to do still and it can’t be done from my home base. It’s one of those things that tug at me as harshly as this Vision Quest did all of last year. I’ve only skimmed the surface this summer. There’s a reality that lives outside of the one in which most of us subsist.
Teacher never told me this, but being human is a heck of a lot more difficult existence than the one in which he lives. There are a lot more human factors that play a part in each of our individual lives.
One of the many visions I had these past several weeks stands out like an orange-garbed prisoner working on the side of the road – I was shown several possible lifelines I could take to accomplish the goal I signed up for when I entered this life. Don’t ask me what the options were, this was all glimpses that went on forever yet only lasted the time of a breath. I made my choice and was told it was not the preferred one because it included too many human connections, too many opportunities for failure because of the lives to which I would be connected.
I asked for a review of my choices again and was told that, although the life I chose was not the preferred one, the Powers that Be allowed this option when I assured them I could make this work.
Then that vision ended. (I believe the Powers that Be I’m talking about here is my Higher Self sitting in the gaming chair in this intense live-action game for which I signed up.)
I’m in that life I chose. It’s the life where my husband and sons are waiting for me right now. It’s the one where I’ve met some amazing spiritual teachers and friends who continue to enrich my life. It’s the one where my heart is full of love for every person who enters my life.
It’s the life I’m fighting to make it work together right now, because I made a promise. I said I wouldn’t let the connections mar the end result.
I had other visions this summer. I was given choices and shone paths. And now, I have to try to make those visions work within and without the confines of this life I chose to live. Unfortunately, what I was so adamant I could make work will require the love and patience and understanding of the people who love me most.
The first step I need to make, though, is my own. I need to make a plan that will guide me down a focused road, not this willy-nilly Vision Quest I took this summer, but something with a map and a goal.
I could get down on my knees and pray for guidance and help, but I’ve already gotten that. What I need to do now is strap on my waders and step into the muck. This life i’ve embarked on is as delicate as the four eggs the moth blessed me with months ago — I must step lightly and with much love.
Until next time, my friends.
The Dragonfly’s Student