The Edge of the Roof
“Sit, be still, and listen,
because you’re drunk
and we’re at
the edge of the roof.” Rumi
For years I’ve traveled, taken trainings and courses, truly leaned into this time of spiritual attunement and growth. The momentum behind all of it is substantial, possibly the travel and learning and connection with others on a similar path has been a bit addictive. This year, however, the message I received was, ‘Be still. Listen.” and so I have been trying, sometimes successfully to do those two things.
Technology is not easily overlooked or left behind and yes, I am wired in far more than necessary. The endorphin hit from seeing a new Snap Chat or getting to ‘like’ a FB post are pretty cool but I have managed to make a lot of time to grow things, to watch the birds, to nap with a kitten tucked between my chin and chest. Being still has been the easier of these two things.
‘Listen.’ This really was about stopping the running about and learning other people’s stuff and simply sitting with my own abilities, wisdom and allowing what is truly mine to flow through as an offering to the world. Allowing my own teachings to flow through, uninformed by new information from outside sources. This has been the real challenge! There are so many cool offerings, classes and trainings out there that it is hard to say no to those and to sit and be and to *listen* to spirit as I am informed as to how to deepen into my own work. But I think I’ve done that, too, and we are only half-way through the year.
Stopping all of the forward momentum created by traveling to circles and courses has been difficult. It was hard to catch my balance for several months. Even being still felt like movement and there was always an invitation or message for another course that sounded amazing! So maybe I am a little drunk. Possibly the spirits that move me don’t come from a bottle of booze but are no less intoxicating!
And so, I sit, am still, am listening. The edge of the roof is just there and I am surrounded by the lush garden I’ve grown and lured by what lingers there, the voices of the devas and fairies, the songs of the birds who bring messages from places our human bodies cannot inhabit. There is such wondrous beauty — being drunken, overflowing with spirit, and on the edge. Would you care to join me? Are you already here, feet swinging as you perch on the ledge, pondering what lies beyond?