In a zoom catch-up with M from London, she asks me with genuine curiosity, “How have all these journeys changed you?”
M is extremely bright and worldly, and I often feel like an ignorant child in her presence. My ego kicks in, and I attempt to sound intelligent: “Um, well, for me y’know, I’m centered, grounded, without serious trauma, addiction, and anxiety…it’s less about change and more about empathy, lovingkindness, and higher consciousness.”
Ugh.
It is true that I feel an abundance of love to share. But my answer, with hackneyed phrases, feels insufficient and inauthentic.
So, how have all these journeys changed me to date?
I don’t know. Or rather, I don’t yet have the words, as of this post. (But wait, there’s more – in future posts!)
I do feel something significant brewing inside me. It’s not mundane. Dare I call it mystical? “From mundane to mystical” does tickle my alliterative yen. But, if I’m being real, I’m not even sure what “mystical” means.
I’m reading Dr. Joseph Tafur’s book, The Fellowship of the River (highly recommend!). Tafur references Dr. Gabor Mate, who says our unhealthy, unhappy culture stems from alienation from nature, community, and ritual.
It is true that I feel an abundance of love to share. But my answer, with hackneyed phrases, feels insufficient and inauthentic.
Dr. Mate’s quote is nudging me closer to clarity around how journey work is changing me. I do not have extreme pain in need of exorcism. I do have some holes to fill – and in fact, in these exact three areas.
Nature:
My childhood in suburban Cleveland and decades of adult life in NYC have resulted in extreme under-exposure to nature (and to state the positive, it has also kept my skin in great shape!). As a result, I’m currently prepping for a radical shift in residence to upstate NY. Hiking is begging to become my future hobby. A Camelback daypack with built-in water bladder and Black Diamond adjustable hiking poles have been purchased and are waiting in the closet (next to the sunscreen).
Community:
Loneliness is the dominant, residual emotion from my childhood. Now, working alone at my home office daily, I continue to feel divorced from community and lonely, despite the ever-present love and activity that I share with my partner and my children and the lovely strolls I take with a few girlfriends. Community is calling but it still feels like phone-tag.
Ritual:
Having rejected the Jewish religious experiences of my upbringing – devoid of spirit and characterized by deprivation – I currently have few rituals in my life. (I do have many habits like morning exercise and coffee, but they lack the more spiritual dimension associated with ritual.) In fact, when my children were little I asked them to fill out a “360” questionnaire to assess my parenting. My scores were proudly spectacular. Except for one: I got a big fat zero on creating family ritual. I have much creative work to do in the arena of spiritual experience.
So, how is plant medicine changing me? I’ll have to get back to you on that. For now, onward toward articulation, application, and abundance.
Articulation: My words are my tools. I’ll work to put original language to my experience so that it can inform others (and maybe you too!).
Application: I’ll continue to process my revelations from journey so I can integrate them into my daily life with positive intention. After all, that is the whole point!
Abundance: Because my own cup of blessings continues to runneth over with absolute abundance, I will feel perfectly situated to support others in their unique journeys.
Ahh, I’ve now calmed my alliterative tickle, but at least, authentically!
“We do not understand, we cannot see what guides us on our way: that longing that pulls us toward the light.” – from Longing by Julie Cadwallader Staub
