Garden of the Soul

Today I have the honor of bringing to you a beautifully written guest blog post by Reiki Level 2 Practitioner Jessica Sine. As many of you know, I am fascinated by humanity’s opportunity to “return to the Garden.” Jess captures this world transition in a very personal way. I hope you enjoy her creative process as much as I did. 🙂

Garden of the Soul
By Jessica Sine

I’m weeding the garden of my soul. There is so much growth here my mind doesn’t know where to begin. I’ve contemplated where to start long enough. In the dizzying effects of swirling thought, I surrender and drop to my knees where I am. It’s as good a place as any. Feeling around, I grab and pull, shredding and ripping anything in my reach. I’m angry. I am angry and frustrated and tired. The answers and solutions I’ve sought in contemplation have not come to my consciousness. Outwardly now, the sweat is rolling down my face and arms and back. I heave a great sob, and choke on the tightness in my throat. I pause a moment and in that silence, I feel the hurricane of raw emotion bubbling from the depths. Heart beating loudly, my whole body pulses with this pause before the storm. As my head drops to my chest, fists clench at the thick growth under me. It is time.

A ferocious howl of every emotion ever felt reaches my ears from what seems like miles away. Now, this moment, I evolve through a maelstrom of physical and emotional exertion. I unleash and release every last ounce – tearing wildly at everything in my path – the breaking weeds of my mind sound like trees being ripped from the ground by unnatural forces. The anguished cries, wrenched from my own lips, are clawing at me – setting my nerves on fire and driving me into an even more destructive frenzy. I’m plowing through the thick, dense mass of weeds, sparing none. Finally, erratic motions slow as only dirt and loose debris are captured in my grasping hands. And then, as quickly as it began, it ends.

Lying in child pose, my forehead in the dirt, sweat, tears, and snot covering much of my body, the last few sobs escape my throat. Shaking arms push me upward as swollen eyes survey this garden. At wit’s end, I did not consider saving anything. The ground around me is ravaged and broken. I am still. I lie down and stare up into space. Completely empty and physically drained – there is nothing. I am space.

A presence – warm and cool and simply everywhere falls over me like a soft blanket of snow. Except this presence seeps through me and becomes all that exists. I am compelled to look to one side and am startled to find tiny green sprouts in intricate patterns radiating out from my body. After the illusion of a long time, I am turning my head back to look into space again, but am drawn to my chest. And there, climbing out of my heart is a beautiful sapling, and a small brook, and some fish. A knowing surfaces – that presence is my heart. It has opened and spilled forth with pure love. My heart is everything and everything is my heart. And a mind I barely recognize emerges from this space like a delicate flower. I am this garden.

(Thanks again to Jessica for letting me post this. You can follow her on Facebook here.)

3 responses to this post.

  1. I am touched to, upon, and through my heart to have read this. The abject, visceral way in which Jess describes the fury and pressure at the moment of breaking literally left me silently staring at my monitor. Thank you for sharing this.

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  2. […] If you've ever felt anything like this, it will resonate with you in ways that words don't capture. Words except hers. […]

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  3. Posted by Dave on August 19, 2010 at 2:59 am

    wow, I live that daily! I am so moved by it…Thank you Laura, and absolutly unbelevable writing Lynn……I lay my head at your feet! Sat Nam : )

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