Updated: Mar 25
Today I did a group meditation and in that meditation, I had a vision I'd like to share with you.
It was a clear day with blue skies and sporadic puffs of clouds here and there. It was warm and I was looking down at my bare feet as they touched the deep green grass while I walked leisurely.
I felt at ease, with no tension in any part of my body. Someone was walking next to me but I could not see their face or body, I simply knew they were there and I felt friendly feminine energy. I knew it was someone I loved, someone I cared for.
My gaze was drawn upward, and I saw I was walking through a large football stadium. Only it was now being brought back to the nature that inhabited the space long before it existed. Greenery was scattered about covering walls and stairs. The seats we once sat upon to watch our entertainers were vacant and crumbling.
There was no roof and I could feel the sun, smell the fresh air, and hear the sounds of animals going about their own lives as we walked peacefully.
I said to my companion "Remember when this used to matter so much to us?"
I was in awe and happy confusion that we somehow cared about this trivial thing and simultaneously felt all-consuming joy and peace that it no longer mattered.
The symbolism of this vision to me is that we've collectively built structures, beliefs, walls, and idols that we've placed in the center of our lives. These end up becoming the gravitational force we orbit around, these become the monsters we must always feed, these become the rooms we must continually clean, these become the focus that alters how we live, what we value, and how we see ourselves. And with every orbit, feeding, cleaning, and life alteration the ideas, the walls, and the idols get stronger.
Inherent in these structures is a sense of striving. Something must always be done, you must always be doing something to maintain and keep these structures intact. They must be tended to.
But what if you stopped?
Right now our whole society is seeing its structures collapsing. They're losing jobs, they're stuck at home, and there is a health pandemic and a renewed fervor for racial equality. And everywhere people are challenging these structures, their own and others' dependency on them. The buildings and ideas they've flocked to in times of stress are no longer serving them, no longer serving us. Maybe they never were, some ask. Maybe we've been serving them, others reflect.
As a society and as individuals we have the ability to choose at this moment. Do we rebuild those structures we've delicately and methodically tended to for years? Or are we willing to let those structures fall into disrepair and see how that can bring new life?
It's exhaustingly emotional. And a bit terrifying.
All I know for sure is this; I sincerely hope that one day, we'll all be walking through our abandoned structures now filled with new, edifying life. And feel the joy, peace, and gratitude for having the strength to let it go untended.