Wow, Dear Creator, What a Glorious Day!
What a lovely day – the sun is bright in the clear sky and the light on the landscape, with shadows across the yards, takes me to other times and places that I’ve been. It’s taken a bit to get myself to write, because I’ve been drawn to just sitting and soaking in this timeless sight, drawing me back into the history of me.
The shadows in the yards remind me of growing up in Connecticut, and our back yard. I remember sitting up in an old maple tree next to the stone wall, swaying with the branches as summer thunderstorms approached; or as the chill winds blew in, announcing the transition from fall toward winter as much as the piles of colorful leaves on the ground below. And winter into spring, before the growing started, when the dormant grass had a dried-out dull yellow hue from its struggle through the snowy, cold winter. Once that dull grass appeared, bare of the last lingering snow remnants, it marked the start of golf and baseball season; even if I still needed a winter hat and extra layers.
I remember these same long shadows over our backyard on summer evenings, when I’d ride my bike up and down the street as my dad cut the grass on his riding mower. After a week of camping, squeezing the six of us into our little Apache pop-up trailer, we’d get home, and my dad would cut the grass that had grown untended. I’d ride up and down the road in our neighborhood, glad to be home, but at the same time, missing the recent adventure of camping. I loved the familiar smells and sounds of the neighborhood – grass being cut in our yard and others’, kids playing, and many families barbecuing. At the same time, I’d already be missing the thrill of the campfire – gathering wood, chopping it, and then watching as my dad used a lighter and newspaper to get the kindling started. Once it was going, I enjoyed experimenting with the flames and cultivating the fire. There was a sense of success and satisfaction from having that campfire in the darkness of the night, to just sit and watch the dance and magic of the flames, to breathe in that scented air from our fire – a smell that would cling and linger to us and our clothes throughout the next days, to feel the shift to peace and contentment – not just in me, but within my family, and others around.
I call the blog section of SunriseJourneys.com “Around the Campfire” for this reason. It’s that image that I wish to conjure, that feeling of contentment and gathering. It’s the space and place to tell our stories.
When we share our stories, we remember and celebrate the best and most brave parts of our lives. We connect and honor each other when we authentically share our stories. We get to see how alike we all are, when we catch glimpses of ourselves in the stories of others, but we also learn more about our differences, hopefully gaining understanding and recognizing that those differences don’t need to be feared.
Around the campfire, I believe, was my introduction to a shared Sacred Space. Unlike church and Sunday services, which felt rote and like a grim duty – lots of right versus wrong, and being talked to, being told what is expected of one’s self (though I fully appreciate that this is my own experience and impression, which is quite possibly very different from others).
The difference, for me, around the campfire was the opportunity that was created and held, for each of us, to look into the flames and allow the essence to connect and soothe our hearts. The opportunity to open and share Our Truth in the moment, with space and distance enough removed from the “Real World” to look at ourselves and All of It as The Observer.
We are born to connect; we are wired to connect. And what a beautiful tapestry is woven with the distinct, colorful threads of each of us, complementing everyone else.
We fear we have to look, sound, and act like everyone else to be like and accepted, and it affects us on both sides of that transaction. On one side, we mask who we really are, pretending in order to fit in. On the other side, we are uncomfortable, fearful, and unaccepting of people who are unlike ourselves.
Here’s what the firelight shows us – we are each gloriously different and unique, in such interesting, expansive ways when we show our true, authentic selves. Yet, even with those dramatic differences – in culture, beliefs, and experiences, we also have threads in common, through which we are connected.
Both are true at the same time. Both are gloriously possible to share and celebrate.
Around the Campfire, we can each open and remember our True Self. We can also honor and share that Self with others, and bare witness as others honor and share their True Selves.
The Campfire becomes the metaphor, for me, of how I want to show up in the “Real World.” Like opening My Heart with Compassion, and then feeling like leaving anyone out, even people who challenge me, means closing My Heart back up; so finding that Sacred Space Around the Campfire, and then considering closing that space through my own choice and actions, feels heart-breaking.
I choose to honor My True and Authentic Self, hold space for the Unique, True Nature of Others, and carry the Sacred Space Around the Campfire within me.
All this from the light and shadows playing across the yards outside!
Prompt for the Day:
Sit and conjure a warm memory of your own. Have fun playing with it – going deep with smell, sound, sight, taste and feel.
Dear Guides – Thank you for bringing me to My Sacred Fire! Blessings!
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