Clearing a Path to the Heart

I found a rhythm on my solo trip in Maine.  I grabbed my mother’s garden clippers and headed towards Joe Moody’s granite stone – where his ashes are buried.  It’s hard to find the stone due to growth of bayberry and blueberry from the year before.  I found it and weeded the small bushes around it as I sang to Joe, who would be in his 20’s now. I started clearing the path – clipping dead, gray branches that had no leaves on them and no chance for growth. Cutting away what no longer served would better support the plant’s overall health.

I worked hard every morning, repeating movements, clipping, sawing and dragging the debris across the rocks and piling them up for final release in flames at low tide. My spirit knew what I needed. The focused breathing, movement and daily rhythm would free up stuck energy. The daily chore helped my energetic self – like a kriya.* It would be named “Clearing a Path to the Heart.” 

After a few days, I thought I was finished but removing the dead wood revealed more to release – another layer – deeper down.  And unlike the wood, it wouldn’t give up without a fight. I discovered wild blackberry vines with prickers.  They were more subtle in the path – harder to see but they grabbed at the ankles causing a trip or a sting. I wore work gloves for protection. Some pulled away from the earth fairly easily and others wouldn’t let go and I had to cut them with the clippers – cut their cords.  If that wasn’t enough, the mosquitoes were out in full force – buzzing in my ear and biting my arms.  “Fuck off!”  I’m not big into profanities – but the rigorous work, hot sun, the deep clearing that was underway -- it felt like the mosquitoes were part of the practice – prodding me, pushing me to find my voice, helping me verbalize my desire for the blocked energy to go. It was the extra force needed to move it out. With the cleansing of tears streaming and nose running, I was cutting, pulling, ripping, and dragging  -- revealing a path that was easier to see, easier to navigate and easier to follow – now that the blocks were removed – a pathway to the heart – to home - to myself. 

I placed collected, washed-up buoys as signposts, marking the pathway to Joe.  I could see the path clearly now, unobstructed.  Anyone could find their way by following the colored shapes – shapes that are designed to float on water – dotting the landscape – moving with energy.

Kayaking in the ocean is my thing up there.  The wind would often pick up as I came around a bend. As I headed into it, I was reminded of one of the books I brought with me, “Touching Spirit: The Letters of Minominike” about the bravery of bison.  They face directly into wind and storms. They face whatever comes their way – brave enough to learn from any experience.  I made like a bison, put my face into the wind and paddled forward.

I had buckwheat pancakes, maple syrup and coffee as I watched the sun rise.

It was a perfect week.

My sister Sue and her son Sam burned the debris a couple of weeks later. Thank you :)

From 3HO: *Kriya:  “In Kundalini Yoga a kriya is a series of postures, breath, and sound that work toward a specific outcome. Practicing a kriya initiates a sequence of physical and mental changes that affect the body, mind, and spirit simultaneously. Each kriya has a different effect, but all work on all levels of your being.”