I had a dream a few years ago.
It went like this…
In a woodland clearing was a temple, round, concrete, and sterile looking. Within the structure was an immense creature which looked like an alabaster curl bug with long tentacles and short millipede-type appendages. She rested there, quietly sleeping in crystal clear, shallow water. It was my job to care for her while she soaked and slept, which required an exact and regimented routine.
Every day, I’d visit her. I’d circle her pool while twirling and skipping, just the way she liked it, jumping over her tentacles which were too large to be fully contained within her ceremonial chamber. I’d feed her and sing to her. From a large bucket truck, I’d gently rub her armored back with essential oils, one tiny section at a time. Every single action was done with purpose and love, exactly as she asked, exactly as she demanded. If I followed this pattern, she remained peaceful. She remained quiet.
She was a Nature Spirit with the power to give life, or take it away.
My love and care for her was all she asked and I did love her with all my heart. This love fueled and harmonized the entire planet. I understood that staying true to her, maintaining her tranquility, meant stability for the entire world, but with time I came to resent the daily routine which took a full twenty minutes.
I got lazy.
I started spending less time with her. I stopped skipping. I started tossing her food without rubbing her back. And who had time for the twirling? I started taking her for granted–getting in and getting out. I told myself I’ll spend more time with her tomorrow. I’ll rub her back next time. I have stuff to do today. Important stuff.
The following morning I arrived to find her restless. Her tentacles were moving, angry, slowly slapping at the concrete around her. Each tentacle had a thousand barbs attached to it, meant to grab and devour. I recognized her anger, and understood that only a few more minutes spent with her today would return her to a state of tranquil peace. But I had things to do which interfered with the time it took to care for her, too busy to provide for her the love she needed. And besides, I reasoned, I’ll get back to caring for her in the way she liked, tomorrow.
Leaping over her grasping tentacles, knowing that each and every day I chose to further neglect her she’d become more angry, more forceful, stronger, faster, inescapable. I thought, “tomorrow…yes, tomorrow” and once again left the temple too soon.
Inner Harmony
When I woke up from the dream I felt sad and exhausted. After lying there, contemplating its complex meaning for some time, I felt an energy surge. The dream was about inner harmony, and my own life-dreams. Was I feeding them? Loving them? Loving myself? Or was I in a dangerous cycle of ignoring my spirit. Burying the lede. I was gambling with the patterns of “I’ll meditate tomorrow,” or “I’ll take time for myself next week when all of my responsibilities are taken care of”, knowing full well that all of our responsibilities are never taken care of.
Keeping the Nature Spirit’s peace means loving ourselves, pampering ourselves, and taking the steps, no matter how small, toward a life that feels meaningful and sacred. The fuel that drives us is drawn from the simple rituals we take for granted–the twirling, skipping, loving, leaping, and being intentional, with purpose and care. Without those things, Life has a tendency to devour rather than harmonize.
And I do believe that this ability for all of us to find our inner harmony and commit to it, devote ourselves to it, will transform the planet, one person at a time.
Much Love,
Kristy Sweetland
P.S. ~ Are you finding your own inner harmony elusive? I may be able to help.
P.P.S. ~ Have you read Stark Raving Zen yet?
Leave a Comment