Soul of Stone
It is the new moon in December right now, and truly the darkest night we will have in 2018. I have been savoring the day as much as possible, getting out for walks, and yesterday made it to out to Goose Point on the south end of Lopez to sit in the grass, look over the shimmering waters, and soak in the December sun. We were up and mobile as soon as the sun ducked behind the peninsula in the distance, and we rushed back to the car, breathing in the frozen air to our supple lungs. It was glorious. Absorbing the sun and the light seems prudent this time of year.
Meditating this morning, a thought came to me. It is more of a metaphor to be exact. Our soul is like a stone. We, our existence, our soul, endures so much. It also is unchangeable. It does not matter if we are neat and tidy, if we accomplish a thousand things in the day, or if we are slovenly and relaxed, collecting the dust of days spent in our heads, healing and pondering the mysteries of life. We are like a statue, and can endure thousands of years, unchanged. We are pure in our essence, and much of our spiritual journey is about recovering who we are and remembering the happiness that was with us upon the moment of our birth. We may wear different clothing from one life to the next, and we exist in different flesh entirely as we grow and change and evolve through many births and deaths, traveling the path of time. But we are the same. We can tap into this DNA structure, this stone being inside of us that has worn the clothing of so many life times, and we can feel the wisdom that has been with us for eons.
I sit in the breeze, my legs tucked in beneath me in the lotus position. I have been practicing sitting for months now, and it has grown easier to rest and sit through the discomfort that comes and goes as my legs are tucked beneath me. My thoughts also come and go like the pulsing of rain drops on my skin. My body becomes stone for a brief moment. I remember my resilience. I remember how things that I spend so much time worrying about or tending to in my day to day are of little consequence to the greater scope of existence and evolution. I stop clinging to the tree and being afraid of the river that is flowing around me and threatening to take me away. I stop making it my priority to resist and wack back at the hedges of nature with my sword, hoping to tame it. I realize I am meant to sail with this river, and as I let go of the tree I am clutching to, space enters my being. I see that the hedge will prune itself when the next wind comes, and that my work, my strain is of little consequence. As space and time comes between me and the tree I was holding onto, I feel freedom as the river flows around me and comes between me and my clutch.
This space I am speaking of, is the universe’s breath. We try and suffocate the universe with our fear of chaos, with our need to control, with our feeding of the ego, and with our gluttony of achievements in our lives. It feels amazing to let go of the tree and realize that space is all that results as we let go. We, our souls, are made of stone. We have endured many storms and we will continue to do so unchanged. But we will not realize this resilience unless we loosen our grip on life; unless we allow the space to flow through.
On my yoga mat today I realized that I wished to be like the stone statue of the Kwan Yin outside the window. With soft eyes, I will gracefully accept all of the chaos that surrounds me while remaining unchanged and secure within my stone make up. To realize that I am truly okay, strong. I can stop letting the messes which are so temporary and inconsequential cause anxiety in my life. Whether I am covered in leaves, snow, am wet or dry, I am still just as God made me. I am indestructible. I am a soul made of stone.