Kind Witness

“Kind Witness'“ by Jude Simon

At the start of 2022, the words silence and stillness rang in my ears over and over. I knew that I wanted to find silence and stillness in myself in whatever way I could, I bought a new journal, and then another, hoping that writing about it would bring some answers. I wrote quite a number of reflections and poems on social media in hopes of putting these feelings into words. For several weeks, I committed to walking every single day in hopes of finding stillness in nature, but muddy roads and cold temperatures forced me inside as time marched from summer monsoons to an early winter. I prayed for stillness, I took photos that inspired stillness, and although I might have glimpsed it from time to time, I felt no closer to this inner stillness than when I started. As the saying goes, “wherever you go, there you are”. As the year turned to 2023, I had a knowing that something was going to change for the better. It was vague feeling, but it has stayed with me nonetheless. It seems, however, as if everything around me has been breaking down. My well is broken, so running water has been an issue for two weeks and continues to be a problem, the weather has made our rural roads virtually impassable, people whom I love and cherish are suffering from illnesses and their own personal issues, inflation just does not stop, and I, of course, have my own share of personal challenges. I generally have a pretty positive attitude and love for life, but all of this has made me wonder about this vague notion of a change for the better that I have felt.

Yesterday I was on a short little walk and was reminded of a painting that Jude made for me seven years ago when my life seemed to be falling apart. She called it “Kind Witness” and it was an abstract picture of me being split in two. Jude was that “kind witness'“ who simply watched as I allowed my life to fall apart, scrambling in a state of chaotic yet directed knowing, and then she watched as I slowly put it back in a new order one piece at a time. It was a terribly painful time as I realized what I had to let go of, while at the same time, having no idea what was next or why I was doing this. There was really no one who could tell me what to do or where to go. Those who understood, a small handful of mostly new friends and my dad, simply watched and let me know that they were there. They allowed me to fall, over and over again, and were there to hug me when I stood back up. They knew I would find my way, and they knew that it was my path to walk, not theirs. I could not have done it any other way.

As I remembered and again contemplated this painting and the idea of being a “kind witness”, I was reminded of another thought I have had on my mind lately. I am finding through my personal experiences that talking is overrated, but being a teacher, I have talked, shared my skill and knowledge, motivated and reasoned with my pupils most of my life. I was also a mother who needed to get things done, deal with logistics in my kid’s lives, and share what I thought they needed to know. Talking seemed imperative, but now, I think not so much.

As a meditation teacher, I ask my community of meditators to sit and reflect on sensations in their bodies, where they feel their breath, what emotions come and go, or what thoughts and patterns continue to pop up. In meditation, we don’t push these aside and hope they disappear. We look on with an awareness of curiosity and observe what is coming up in the moment, what needs attention, and what parts of us needs nurturing. We consider the walls we have built, and when ready, allow them to drop a little at a time when we feel safe. We watch ourselves, those we love, those we do not love or even like, and we watch the world. We learn to be in an awareness that does not need to judge but can simply “be with”. Does this mean that action and words are not important? No, they are crucial. But learning to be a kind witness means learning to be with ourselves, our situations, our loved ones, as well as the challenges in the greater world with a sense of inner stillness and silence so that we stop ourselves from getting in the way when we may just be being asked to sit with ourselves or another in silent peace. It is in this silent peace where we will find the ability to respond with compassion, wisdom, and a deeper message when a message is needed. It is in this quiet patience where we learn to respond, not react.

This idea of stillness and silence has a new meaning for me now. It does not require any more skill than to simply be open to what is, to listen with patience, and not have advice or judgement at the tip of our tongues. It sometimes means watching those we love be in pain and suffering. It means allowing things to unfold naturally because, truly, forcing things to happen rarely if ever works out well. Letting people follow their path and simply be an observer, a kind witness, is the hardest path we can take. There is risk by walking through life in this manner. We lose that sense of control. We have no idea what will happen, even when that person we are observing is ourselves. But it is worth the risk, I believe, because no matter the outcome, we know we have walked in love as a kind witness. We learn to accept rather than cling to what might have been or what might be. Isn’t this the greatest and most free love we can offer ourselves and others? The outcomes may truly surprise us. This may very well be the tide that needs to turn in 2023. I certainly hope so.

Kind Witness

Eyes watch as heart feels

She breathes in the happenings

of her present life

inner life

past lives

other’s lives

and simply “is”

Knowing comes when it is time

and it is always time

if we remember to listen

hear

and respond when called

She is an observer

with open eyes

and wisdom of the ages

being with

and willing to wait

for her truth

for Creator’s truth

to unveil itself

in its own sacred moment

She knows what must be done

and knows what must be left alone

She knows when to be silent

and she knows when to speak

She knows when to help

and when to release

She knows

She has always known

She is a kind witness

Toni Austin-Allen

February 21, 2023

Silence in the Aftermath ?

(Dedicated to the Families in Uvalde, Texas)

I woke up this morning, as most people did, with a heavy heart after hearing about the mass shootings at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. People all around the country are hurting, grieving, angry, and fearful. These are all real and appropriate emotions. If we didn’t feel this way, there would be something terribly wrong with us. We all want immediate action, and honestly, there should be immediate action. Unfortunately, we are not living in a time in which we, as humans, know how to deal with difficult challenges in a healthy way nor know how to help make things better. The eighteen year old shooter is a perfect example of this fact. The politicians holding the power to change policies are another example that must not be ignored. What I have seen, however, is a huge amount of compassion behind people’s anger and uprising. It is this compassion that we must recognize. It is this compassion that we must feel after the anger subsides. Compassion is the glue that binds us together as one and shows us where we are needed and how we can help. If we react from anger alone, then we are no better than the people doing the hurting. If we react from anger alone, the passion will fizzle and we will all walk back into the safety of our homes and close the door. If we react from anger alone, we may never walk out of the door at all.

I also awoke feeling heavy due to various social media memes that I read encouraging action over prayer and silence. Prayer, as a word, has a lot of baggage for many people if it is used in it’s limited way prescribed by oh so many churches around the country. Prayer is often looked at and used to summon some outside being to come and make everything better, and if they don’t, well, then “they” don’t exist, or “they” should be blamed. Meditation, in times like these, is also looked on as a terrible waste of time. As a meditation teacher and as a being who was catapulted into a new life with the help of both prayer and meditation, I think about this duality of silence vs. action most days.

You see, we have a large population of people who go directly into prayer as an action in hopes that it will make everything better. To them, it is a means to an end. How often we want “someone” to come and make the bad stuff go away. I wish it could be this way, and maybe it does seem like that at times, but for me, prayer is a time when I access something greater than my egoic reactionary self, and I ask to be lifted up to see clearly, to find answers that my lower self might not see, to ask my higher self to show me how to be courageous and keep stepping forward in the difficult times.

Sitting in silent meditation is very similar to prayer but it’s not quite the same. Meditation prepares our minds and bodies for a better path of action. It slows our thinking brain down long enough to see truth, not illusion. It helps us decipher what “is” and “what is not”. It guides us to know when to be patient and when to act, and not only that, but how to act. To me, meditation is a state of being and prayer is aspiration and guidance by something greater than me. These moments of prayer and silence might only last a moment, a few days, a few weeks, but they give us the chance to see how and when we can best serve ourselves and others. Don’t get me wrong, anger is super important as well. It tells us that action must take place, but silence, whether in prayer, a walk, a moment of grieving, or sitting on the cushion helps us center, calm, and touch into that compassion that is so needed for real change and sustainability. Anger is not sustainable, it is only the messenger.

So I encourage people not to look at prayer and meditation as the opposite of action. I encourage others not to look at prayer and meditation as complete in itself, a spiritual bypass so to speak. We are in a time of huge change and many challenges. We need it all, spiritual silence AND activism, and we need to be our best selves in order to give our all. Venting to friends and on social media is really okay, as a start, but then maybe sitting in silence so we can listen to our Higher Selves, our Higher Power, God, Creator, our Buddha Nature, our Light, whatever you want to call it, so we might be guided toward healthy next steps to becoming a devotee of compassion. Maybe this moment of silence before reacting in anger will guide us to wisdom. Can you imagine the power we will find with compassion and wisdom joined in union? That is where meaningful action will take place.

So for today, I write this blog post and contemplate. I will take a walk when I feel complete in these words. I will ask my True Nature to guide me, and when wisdom flows with compassion, perhaps answers and solutions will flow as well. It has already motivated me to write a blog post after almost a year of silence. That in itself is a step forward.

The Choice is in The Gap

“Sitting in The Gap” (Dedicated to Marion O.)

I am not going to talk about climate change in this blog post, but I will start by saying that, ecologically, the climate where I live has been a microcosm of 2020, a perfect metaphor for the pandemic.   We had three months of dry winds that made up our spring.  I am not talking about breezes, folks, I’m talking about twenty-five to forty mile per hour winds day after day.  I am an avid hiker and love being outside, but I didn’t want to step outside my door for three full months.  Then the summer hit hard in a matter of about a day, and we hit three digit temperatures overnight.   If this was Arizona, I would have understood, but I live at over 7000 feet elevation.  We don’t do high temperatures like that.  We don’t even have air conditioners.  Along with the heat came extreme dryness.  I could not remember the last time it rained.  The earth grew gray, brittle, and wrinkled.  I felt like I was walking on a corpse at times.   I know that I have not been the only person who has been concerned about our planet’s well-being.    

But today, we had a small deluge.  It is monsoon season, and although the rains usually miss the little valley in which I live, the skies opened up and literally dumped.  Here is where my post really gets fun.  As I am typing, the air is filled with the croaking of toads, the Mexican Spade Foot Toad, to be exact.  They apparently mate during monsoon season but spend most of their time dormant and underground, so now, there is a symphony of mating toads outside my window.  I thank some of my local friends for helping me understand my confusion when I thought I was hearing frogs in the high desert. 

So what does this have to do with the pandemic?  Well, you can probably make out the comparison with the weather, but the toads made something come to life for me just now.  Just like the toads coming out en masse with the first real rain, our country has come out of hiding at the first sign of safety.  We are all, well, a lot of us anyway, wanting to get back to “normal” and be with people again, do what we want to do, and just have some fun.  If you aren’t one of these people, that’s perfectly okay and probably wise, but many of us want to be in the proximity of the human energy field again.

The reason I am writing this post, however, is this word, “normal”.  I was, like many of my friends, hoping for something beyond normal in terms of the human condition post-pandemic.  I think I had this crazy notion that after a year of contemplation about the truth of uncertainty and the new realization of what community means to the human species, that we would all come back in a haze of novice enlightenment.  What I have noticed, however, and I hope I am not sounding negative, is that there is an edge around people, maybe a distrust, and also a good many walls that built up over the pandemic,  which I might also add,  coincided with many divisive and tragic events.  Duality hit an all time high.

But like the toads croaking outside my window, we want to all come together now and create community while still coping with residual anger, frustration, distrust, and fear.  I am not saying there isn’t an enormous amount of hope and love along with all of this, I am just saying that being “normal” might not be as easy as it looks at this point, and becoming a culture of enlightened beings might take awhile. I do, however, have great hope that we, during this last year of isolation and emotional challenges, have realized the importance of community, but at the same time, it is terribly important to re-enter into community with intention and wisdom.

So with this said, I would like to throw out an idea that is fairly simple but terribly difficult to cultivate in our western culture.  It’s the idea of The Gap.  Think about that moment between the exhale and the inhale.  If you haven’t noticed it before, simply take a breath, and at the end of the expiration, just sit for a second or two before inhaling and notice what you feel.  For me, there is just a second or two of stillness.  My mind doesn’t go anywhere.  It is a beautiful moment of quiet.  Now just imagine; what if we all cultivated this idea of The Gap in all responses to our lives.  For example, let’s say we read something a friend posts on social media.  We all know what it feels like to type off an “I know better than you” response filled with indignant justified anger.  I feel you all squirming.  I am embarrassed at how many of these responses I have quickly and angrily pushed “send” on.  What if we paused, instead, and simply gave ourselves a Gap in which to make that choice.  The choice you make is your decision.  I am just suggesting a pause to choose the path that that action will take.   Or what if you find yourself frustrated with a family member or friend and just really need to vent your feelings with a third party.  Again, don’t get too squirmy.  The examples I am using are coming from my own life.  The Gap might be just a moment or two, but it could be the difference between judging and gossiping about someone you love and letting them deal with their own stuff while you deal with yours.  The Gap could lead to an openness and acceptance that might not happen if we don’t rush into our habitual patterns.  We can even use this Gap with our feelings about ourselves.  When we feel anxiety or shame or any kind of self-effacing emotion, we can simply pause in that stillness and make a choice of which direction we want our lives to go at that moment.  It might be just enough time to see what is really true or what is really needed at that moment.

I’m not saying that this pause will solve all of the world’s problems, but it just might help us be with each other in a softer and kinder way.  Isn’t that pretty enlightened after all?  Being normal is, in reality, the old patterns of holding up walls of safety to protect us from our own fears.  Perhaps with just a little practice, we can pause in this Gap and re-enter into a more compassionate community.    The choice lies in each one of us if we just take a moment to pause.

The Practice of Being With

Earth Day is coming to a close. I am feeling reminiscent of Earth Days from the early years of this national celebration. I enjoyed watching families mill about, visiting new age booths, listening to live music, learning about solar and recycling at educational tables, picking up free bumper stickers and brochures, and more. It was just good clean fun (excuse the pun). It was simply a moment to remember the earth, have some fun, and give thanks. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that two to three decades down the road, concern for climate change, the threat of losing most our environmental protections, and drilling for oil on our sacred sites, national parks, monuments, and public lands would create a political divide. I could never have foreseen that mass killings of our nations protected and endangered animals would be sanctioned by our government. I could not have imagined the idea of walls that would cut off migration and hunting patterns of creatures from butterflies to mountain lions and gray wolves, not to mention, families looking for safety.

I have had a knowing for several years that is now coming to the forefront of my life. It is that I am nature and nature is me. I want to live in a way that recognizes spirit in all and to rest in that way of being. That sounds simple, right? But think about it for a moment. The English language makes everything that is not human, a thing. Businessmen and politicians objectify land, animals, plants, and other humans to abuse them, run over them, ignore them, own them, and make money on them. It happens every single minute of the day. The military calls people “targets” so that soldiers can more easily kill other humans by objectifying them. This can all be done in the comfort of another country. I suppose if one is just following orders and pushing a button to annihilate “targets” on a screen, guilt is lessened quite a bit. A newer form of this objectification on a huge scale is in our addiction to social media. Who among us has not sent off a “post” filled with rage and self-righteousness, not really caring who we hurt. I’ll be the first to raise my hand, and I so regret that I allowed myself to get sucked in. Social media has probably been one of our greatest dividers. If the “other” is an “it”, whether they be human or rock, then it is easy to do away with “it”.

Although white cultures from all countries have lived with this individualistic “survival of the fittest” ideology since the beginning of time, I am just now recognizing how pervasively political, abusive, and demeaning it has become in all areas of our lives in the last several years. The fact that this is just now on my mind in a big way, says that, I too, have been exceedingly blind most of my life, and trying to drastically change my entire psyche to recognize every being, animate and inanimate, as energetically and spiritually alive, is no small feat considering that our language and culture tell me the exact opposite.

Today, this Earth Day of 2021, I want to commit to changing this very mindset that I, my parents, my grandparents, and all others before them have lived with. When I step into nature, I commit to being with whatever/whoever is there and recognizing the equanimity in all beings. When I listen to a person speak or listen to a piece of music, I commit to trying to hear the spirit in their words or the notes in the air. When I see a work of art, I commit to taking in the expression and the creativity and message that the artist wanted to convey. When I drink or eat, I commit to trying to have gratitude for all beings, plant and human, who had a part in bringing it to my mouth. When I sit with another human being, I commit to sitting with them, not sitting in front of them. I don’t want to be an outsider, an observer anymore. I already know that I will fail every single day. But today, I commit to trying to become "with”, not separate from.

I am about to start reading and studying a poem by the German philosopher, Martin Buber. It is called, “I-Thou” and was written in 1923. He divided people into two groups, “I-it” people and “I-Thou” people. It is all about this concept of which I have been writing. After reading a few verses of this poem, I thought of the movie “Avatar”. The Avatars were the “I-Thou” beings and the businessmen and military were the “I-it” beings. They simply could not understand each other. It could not have been a more clear example of this divide. I also want to read all of Joanna Macy’s books and any other books I can get my hands on broaching this topic, but the real teachings are in our actions. How do we, as a people who live separatist lives from all other beings on this planet, join our hearts and spirit in union? I think we must commit, sit quietly, listen, touch, ask to be a part of, pray for change. We must step outside into nature on a daily basis, look out our windows, journal our thoughts, and have gratitude for all beings of all kinds. Maybe we change our language when we speak. Native languages have names for Sky, Air, and Sun. They are not things. They are beings, live entities.

I have said that this pandemic has hopefully been the impetus we need for change, but I don’t think that this change can be a passive one. It will take all of us to turn the tide toward compassion and love, and it will take practice and commitment to “be with”. Today, the closing of Earth Day, I commit to whatever I can do everyday to bringing more healing to this incredible planet and ALL its beings. I am so honored to join this path with so many others who are doing the same. I see who you are, and you inspire me. Thank you. Happy Earth Life everyone.

Sacred Reciprocity

Watercolor on Paper by Toni Austin-Allen

When we try to make sense of anything, we must first become observers.  Observing life is often challenging because in life, we are also participants. We have our self-absorbed perspective that cannot help but get in the way.  As the pandemic has raged through our country for almost a year now and we have experienced one frustration after another, we have had to adjust to new realities and new lifestyles that we were not prepared to deal with.  We have had to unceremoniously say goodbye to people for various reasons, sometimes due to death, sometimes distance, and sometimes through the pain of irreparable damage to the relationship.  There is not a person whom I know who has not experienced some kind of grief during this last year.  My heart goes out to each and everyone who is reading this.  Know that you are not alone.  This is the topic of this blog post.

     We live in a country filled with gifted and talented people, educated people, in-the-know people, but we are a culture of individualists.  That is what the western culture is built on, not community.  Capitalism and the survival of the fittest mentality have been engrained in us through the generations.  Please don’t stop reading now.  I am not anti-capitalist although I do think we are seeing the worst in humanity because it has gone unchecked, but that is only my opinion.  That is for another discussion.  In this time of isolation, however, I am seeing just how much we are missing because community is not our first priority.  This is not to say that many individuals have not done their share of reaching out, so if you are a more community based individual, kudos to you, and thank you. But as a culture, that is not who we are, so with stay at home mandates, closed Mom and Pop stores, no inside dining, etc…we are doing the best we can through social media and the occasional phone calls. Now, I may not have the true pulse of America since I live in BFE, but I have a strong feeling in my gut that most of us are feeling a sense of inertia or a lack of empowerment or even a great deal of underlying fear despite our best efforts.  That is because we are missing something fundamentally important in our society that we often make up for in our addictions to shopping, being busy, drinking, partying, overdosing on technology, or whatever fills our time and void.  We are missing real connection.

     I said earlier that we are a country filled with talented and gifted people, but we usually use our talents and our gifts to make money and to compete.  There is a kind of reciprocity in this approach from the perspective of being able to make a living and get our insatiable egos fed, but the true and profound experience of a more sacred reciprocity is sorely missing.  These experiences are the ones that we need most right now.  We need words of appreciation, we need to pick up our pens and write notes of endearment and gratitude for those we care about, we need to look into the eyes above the masks of our essential workers and share a twinkle and a deep look of care, we need to go sit outside if we are able and thank our Creator for what we do have, we need to see and thank nature for all it gives to us and apologize for when we have taken needlessly, we need to let our friends know that their talents and their gifts matter.  You see, each and every one of us has at least one special something that we can share with those around us to make this world a better place and create a life of community even when we are at home.

     I had a meditation the other day in which I imagined that I was filled with light and I was facing another being who was also filled with light.  We lifted our arms and fingers, and our light connected and became one.  I imagine our gifts as that sacred star.  We each have something to offer but they must be given as an offering of love and care to others, not simply as a commodity.  The flip side of this, however, is  that they also must be received and appreciated in order to complete the circle.  As a musician, and I bet many of my musician friends can relate, I have, at numerous times, been expected to give freely because musician’s  gifts are often taken for granted.  People think of it only as a job we do for fun, but the reality is that it is our gift to give the world. This cannot be taken lightly and certainly should not be taken for granted.  We are the vessels who practice and perform this gift.  I personally have performed many events in which I got paid little to nothing and got no thank you at all.  A few years ago, I drove 13 hours to a gig.  I offered to play for free because I loved the place and wanted to go back.  It was a place I had considered moving to.  They offered me a spot to pitch my tent and then offered a glass of lemonade and some snacks at the event.  I played for three hours.  Not one word of thanks was given when I left.  It was a long drive home, and I felt depleted.  This is an extreme example, but it is not an isolated one.  You see, relationships must have reciprocity in order to thrive.  Community grows in this way.  In an individualist society, envy, protection, getting as much as we can for as little as we can, and sometimes a feeling of “I don’t have anything to offer back”, or maybe even, “I don’t have time to show appreciation”,  can immediately block the circle of reciprocity. 

     The truth is, we all have something to offer whether it be a kind word, a look of compassion, a good deed, a prayer, sitting in silence with a sick friend even if only on the phone,  a well-cooked meal, a poem, a letter, a favorite book, whatever means something to you, give and give back.  Don’t wait.  See life through another’s eyes, not from your own vantage point but from theirs.  What do they need?  What can you give?  Give to yourself as well and thank yourself.  Ask yourself what you need, and then listen.  Take care of yourself.  That’s when we can give to and give back.  This is the start of community.  This is the start of compassionate relating.  This is sacred reciprocity.

The Narrow Path

I would never have guessed that I would start my new blog on one of my most down days in the last seven months. In my last blog, nightwalkersjourney.blogspot.com, I usually wrote after I had had some kind of emotional breakthrough. The blog would call to me, loudly, and I would obey. Tonight, it beckons as well, but the timing is reversed. It does seem, however, rather apropos considering the situation in our country and the world at large in 2020 with the corona virus, civil unrest, schools opening in the midst of a pandemic, and the elections looming just around the corner, and that’s just at the top of the news. I would expect that a lot of people are feeling a bit down as we transition into this new way of life.

I have felt tremendous emotions in the depths of my chest for months now, and I have begun to realize that it is grief. It is old grief brought about by the many changes I have had to make in the last six years. It is new grief of the daily loss I see in the news of people suffering and of our planet hurting. It is personal grief as I realize how much I have slowed down in my own spiritual growth the last couple of years, and it is future grief as I prepare myself for the inevitable loss of loved ones and a loss of a certain life style as we all adjust to so many needed changes. This might sound depressing, but without this grief, we simply cannot move forward. You see, grief is the action that needs to happen to take us into our new beings and into our new lives. Grief is a huge array of emotions that help us move into healing. I wish it felt better, but it never does. Most people will do anything to avoid it so they don’t have to hurt, but it is in this hurting where we can find space to feel, to vent, and to release. There is no set time for grief to come to completion as many people mistakenly believe. Every grief is different and will gradually lessen in it’s own time. It has a bad reputation because of its deep pain, and I know that in my past, I have wanted to rush through it and wanted that for others as well. I have learned and experienced, however, that with each new step of letting go in this process, there is another door waiting to be opened. It always happens. We never grieve forever; it just feels that way some days. These doors need to open in order to step onto the narrowing path.

I was hiking in the White Mountains of eastern Arizona recently, and as I walked, I took notice of the footpaths. It was rainy and chilly but quite beautiful. I started out on the wet, black asphalt. This quickly turned into a dirt trail near the trail head that could have fit four people across. Eventually this narrowed down to a two abreast wide trail, and as I made the turn into the most glorious pine bordered meadow split by a small babbling river, the trail narrowed down to a single person path. It was gorgeous. It was so timely because I had just written a poem using the metaphor of walking paths and our spiritual paths. The further along we go, the spiritual path gets narrower and narrower, and although this sounds difficult and lonely, it actually becomes the only reality there is. We all, despite our fears, are on our own single paths, and the more we let go of clinging to the idea of hiking en masse through life, needing everyone around us to support our every move, the more we can look into our deepest selves to guide our way, to see the light of true awareness, and when ready and when asked, help brighten the way for others. As we all walk to find this narrow path, we are all joining together as One Sacred Star. On this narrow path, we listen more closely to our inner voices that guide us toward a more authentic life.

In creating One Sacred Star, I am committing myself to this narrow path and am willing to help comfort and gently guide others to find it as well. Art, music, drum circles, meditation, prayer, and the real world of nature are simply my tool kit. They have helped me express my psyche, my spirit, my inner voice, whatever you want to call it, time and time again, through a myriad of transitions. I am committing myself to step on this narrow path and walk it with gratitude and courage. I hope you will join me.

The Narrow Path

Leaning heavily on the weathered trail marker,

I look on with excitement and admitted fatigue.

Behind me, a wider path meant for two or three,

before that, a dirt road,

and before that,

a stretch of black tarmac.

I now look ahead onto a single path,

only room for one.

I take a step on nature’s balance beam

and flail awkwardly with this new way of being.

At times, I use a staff, and at others,

I simply fall down.

But with practice, my movements grow steady,

and a calm sanity begins to shine

if only for a moment,

if only through the cracks of my continuing facade.

I have only walked a few inches

on this proverbial path,

but it feels like miles

and miles

and miles.

I only have to take one step to know

that this Narrow Path is the real deal.

It is the path to freedom within myself.

There is no crowd waiting to accompany me

as I gather my gear.

It is upstream all the way.

i carry my own bags of trials

and tribulations.

No Sherpa watches my every move

to ease or comfort.

The collective is way behind

in the distance…

off kilter,

off balance.

I hear their voices beckon.

The insanity of the social highway,

life’s magnetic draw.

But I recognize this insanity

in my body…

the tension,

anxiety,

and pain.

I take another tender step

feeling each pebble beneath my feet,

wearing soft leather soles

to gently ease into this tender

and sometimes rocky path

yet not be harmed,

too much…

just aware,

and awake.

Each step on each day

in each moment,

recommitting to the mystery

of the Narrow Path.

Toni Austin-Allen