Rain, blessed rain is pelting the windowpanes, dimpling the puddles and soaking the garden. I am content indoors as the days grow shorter before Winter Solstice, waiting out both the pre-holiday bustle and post-election despair, simply sitting quietly and letting things settle. I have no idea what comes next.
Pulling back into quiet is often my best way to move forward, especially if I don’t mind being surprised by the outcome.
One time I learned this was in 1991, visiting with Mary Scott in England at her thatched-roof cottage in Wiltshire. She was in her 80s at the time, still doing her amazing research into earth energies, and I spent 5 days in her company, passing my nights down the road at the True Heart Pub. She taught me how to listen to the subtle energies of the body, we talked about all things esoteric and took naps on her sofa.
She insisted the naps were the most important teachings of all.
After one particularly stimulating day, I went back to the True Heart with strict instructions from Mary to go right to bed so the new information could settle in. Though I intended to obey, the local farmers were playing at darts when I arrived and pulled me into their game. Big joke on the American lady who had never played darts in her life!
“Pull back your arm, like this, aim at the Bull’s Eye and let go!” They instructed, handing me a dart, and standing back grinning. So I did what they said, lifted my arm and threw.
And hit the bulls-eye in its perfect center!
This had never happened before at the True Heart Pub, and everyone went silent before erupting in a tremendous roar. The story goes on, but what I remember is the state of perfect relaxation I was in when I lifted my arm to throw the dart. No expectations, no agendas, no strain. Just the moment as it was happening.
I was originally drawn to Mary Scott by her brilliant work about cosmic patterns and how they were repeated in microcosm on every level of our world, ourselves included. She showed how everything in the universe was interconnected and interrelated and I was so fascinated by her books I came to England to meet her that summer at her little cottage in Wiltshire.
As it happened – by wonderful synchronicity – the day before I arrived the first of the “crop-circle” pictograms appeared in a field near her village! We went off to see it the next morning, its swirls of ripe grain neatly bent over into spirals, creating a huge design of many intertwined circles and complicated pathways covering about an acre of crop! The standing wheat outside the “pictogram” was pristine and shone golden in the morning sun, untrampled.
There was no conceivable way this could have been executed overnight by a single artist, nor was there any wreckage left behind to indicate that people had been in the fields the night before. I caught my breath at the sight of it, as it felt like a sign that we were not alone in an uncaring universe, and that help was available if we knew how to ask for it.
It seemed to me that intervention from somewhere was long overdue, as our situation was getting critical: droughts and floods were becoming commonplace, social systems were breaking down and the financial scene was an utter disaster.
All our crises seemed to stem from the fact that we’d been operating all these years on a mistaken view of reality. A crazy one, really. What made us think humans could actually own the Earth as private property? Whose idea was it that an economy could be based on limitless growth, interest and debt? Who decided that one race could be superior to another race, or that humans were more important than all the rest of life on the planet?
Our outdated core belief systems either had to change, or we were toast!
The designs were astoundingly beautiful, and they felt to me like a generous wake-up call from the cosmos. I couldn’t wait to tell people about this! But I found they were hardly paying attention – or maybe were too scared to pay attention…
The media ignored the designs, except to poke fun. Tourists came and trampled farmers’ crops, researchers speculated and then fought with each other. Since there was no acceptable explanation within our mainstream belief systems about this amazing phenomenon, it simply got dismissed and then forgotten.
“Didn’t 2 guys do it?” was the response I got whenever I brought up the subject.
And yet more complex designs continued to appear in fields all over Europe, then Canada, then the US, their numbers increasing worldwide over the years. They showed up as well in sand, in ice, even in trees! Check it out: http://www.cropcircleconnector.com/
Having no worldly explanation for something “impossible” happening right before our eyes, we looked the other way. One friend got a migraine when I showed him a picture, and another, a scientist, confessed, “I’d rather not know, because if it turns out to be real then I’ve wasted my whole life on the wrong stuff!”
I was lucky enough to see crop circles up close more than once, and I am quite convinced that these intricate, geometrical designs imprinted in grain are neither a hoax nor impossible, if we but allow our minds to expand a bit.
It’s a matter of accepting that the world may be more complex, more dimensioned, more conscious, more alive than we thought. That miracles might be a common, everyday occurrence depending upon how we look at things and that the world has more levels than we were taught.
One can almost hear the universe sighing impatiently to us and saying,
“So sorry you weren’t able to hear our gentle wake-up call. It was quite a bit of fun dreaming those crop circles up, but maybe now it’s time to pull out the Trump card to get your attention – though I’m warning you, this time around it won’t be so amusing!”
It may be working, too! Notice how, ever since the election we are sitting up and paying attention, scared out of our wits but taking on a whole new commitment to activism?
Not my choice of the best way to finally get going, but there you are.
The way to shoot an arrow is to pull it back against the bowstring with all your might so it can go forward with speed. Same with paddling a canoe - you dip the oar in deep water and pull backwards to move forward.
The universe knows what she’s doing. Might it be that the new administration is a taut bowstring pulling us backwards to provide the tension that will spring us forward towards brand new horizons?
Let’s hope so.