The Attraction to Impossible

ERhSc14I have a knack for coveting the incaptureable.  I realize that to some degree, we all want what we cannot have, however for me it is exponentially more complex.  Not only do I want it, I believe it can be mine. I do not view it as “impossible”, incredibly difficult maybe but never impossible. I become fixated on it and then of course, once I have it, the thrill is gone and I am off to the next impossible thing.  I thought to myself today, “You have far too much air and not enough earth.”

I am always chasing, running, looking for adventure. Moving, jumping, diving, flowing with air and sometimes getting tossed around in it, laughing at gravity and daring it to stop me.  Something as big as gravity, I laugh at it.  I taunt it and I tease it and I fancy myself ultimately unbound by it. These are the things that I believe, and so when it comes to being ardent, steadfast, predictable, and still? I struggle.

I’ve been toying with fire lately. Trying to teach myself to move the flames. There is the way of forcing it, it is aggressive and brash and then there is Iroh’s way which seeks balance with the element. He bends fire like a waterbender bends water, recognizing the destruction that both can cause when abused.  I was standing in a circle during a Shamanic prayer exercise, there was burning resin at the center of the circle and the smoke as first was blowing in the wind.  Until…

I started to play with it. I tried to force my will upon it, to no avail.  Willing the smoke to come to me I called it, flirtatiously at first, then more persistent.  It could sense my frustration and fled. I breathed deeply and decided on another approach. I said the words, “I yield” and I repeated it over and over again in my mind until the whole of my body vibrated with the sentiment and the smoke came.  Circled at my feet I tried not to lose focus of my vibration as I took in what was happening. I let it go, and the smoke moved to others in the circle, no longer slave to the wind it touched us all. Then I called it again, “I yield. I yield. I yield.” I repeated, and again it came.

When I told others in the conference about the experience it was interesting to note that many people noticed the movement of the smoke and some even noted how they were surprised it moved and did not just blow in the direction of the wind.

Even now as I recall the story, I have to tell myself not to chalk it up to coincidence.  Even in knowing that you are in tune or in touch with the unexplained world around us, it is still very difficult to hold that and to be that.  So much of my life is in words. Boundaries. Deadlines. But the truth of me is that those things are only half of my story; black and white are simply concentrated shades of grey.  I just believe in much more than can be written or explained. I believe in experiences, the body will remember.



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