We give a gift to ourselves when we allow connection with our innermost being. This is the one untouched by circumstances but fierce in its inviolate sanctity. The silence in this place is so loud you can hear it, so palpable you can feel it. And yet there’s no adequate way to express the comfort and inspiration it brings. Comfort here meant as nurturing. Coupled with inspiration, it urges us on…through…and beyond…to what we can’t yet know. And the circumstances of our lives⏤the challenges⏤fall away. It doesn’t mean they’re not there but are approached differently. A state of grace through the chaos and surrounding confusion.
And that Fierce Quiet Place wants expression in any way we can. It creates a portal and finds its way into the material world through narrative art, music, poetry and prose, ceremony and ritual…a touch…complete presence we give to others. It’s funneled from non-ordinary reality that exists out-of-time to land here.
This is what I’ve recognized more and more. And knowing that when I give myself over to that Fierce Quiet Place the most beautiful things happen. I live from a deeper place. I meet people who hold similar expression. I want to introduce you to one of them through the way it happened.
In February I completed This Is My Walk in Life, an oil painting. Over the course of its creation, it came to life. The portal opened. A silent dialogue ensued and conveyed itself as best I could onto canvas. It was not a casual process.
This is the description I gave it.
We all have a walk in life, perhaps chosen before we set our feet on Mother Earth. And amidst hardships there’s unexpected joy. If we open our eyes to it, there’s magic in fleeting moments when we truly experience what life is. This painting is inspired by the Lacandón Maya women of the rainforest village of Nahá in Chiapas, Mexico.
Then at the end of March I met Laura Weaver. She came from Colorado to take part in the fire ceremony guided by Tat Apab’yan Tew during our Spirit Keepers Series. I didn’t know she’s an accomplished poet. I’m quite sure she didn’t know I’m an artist and writer.
Then a few weeks ago I saw a poem she wrote in March.
There is a way of walking
from point A to point B
as if there is nothing
of significance in between.
We have been taught to move
in straight lines, to lay life out
along a grid of efficiencies.
But there is another way to navigate.
This way carves a serpentine road
full of mysterious meetings.
Along this path, the directives come
from the world itself speaking
through all of its voices. And because
something else is guiding us—because
we are listening—at the next crossroads
we turn left instead of right—
and find a never before seen village
where an old man harvests golden apples
he offers to those who pass by. And over
the silken hills, cowbells sound out
like ancient monk song, and the last
of the sunlight breaks through the rainclouds
so that everything is shimmering and awake.
And the oak tree that cracked in last
night’s storm is dripping with honeycomb
and bee hum. And as this moment swells
and blooms open with its own fullness,
suddenly the idea of Point A & Point B
makes no sense at all. For now
you have no idea who you are
or if you have arrived. You only know
that you are everywhere.
I couldn’t help but note the strong similarities in the titles of our respective works and common message. Then yesterday I read her poem Making Passage which reaches an even deeper platform. I urge you to read it. It will speak to your soul.
I don’t think I’m presuming. When the Fierce Quiet Place is fully expressed we all say the same thing. Only the variation in our medium is different.
Earlier I described Laura as an accomplished poet but that’s not quite sufficient. Her words have a way of gently, persistently making their way inside us on a path all their own and touches the universal. And—in my experience—I feel heard. Even held.
♦︎ The reprint of A Way of Walking is used with permission. Subscribe to Soul Passages and receive Laura Weaver’s poetry as she publishes.
♦︎ My original oil This Is My Walk in Life is currently available. Inquire for more information. Archival prints are available here.