A Quiet Spot for Reflection in the Sangres
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” Anais Nin
I’ve been blessed to have a dear friend visiting me here at the Sangres for several days, our first opportunity to visit in person since the 2019 winter holiday season, mostly due to Covid. Like many other friends and families, we stayed in contact through the lockdown days. Now, having her here reminded me that there is nothing like the flow created when we are face-to-face, unmasked and yearning to share at a deeper level than email, texts, phone chats, and even Zoom accommodate.
My friend departed earlier this morning. The house is quiet, still. It feels a touch empty although the energy of the laughter and exploration remains in these walls and in my heart. True friends are blessings, reminders of life’s beauty, harmony, abundance, joy.
For me, true friendship includes being challenged by my friend as well as challenging them, all the while grounded in acceptance and rooted in the reality of unity. Recognizing and honoring differences while deeply knowing that we are the same.
I was reminded of that on my early morning walk with Zadie Byrd, remembering a time when this friend challenged me to pivot from a particular pattern of thinking to considering another possibility. Accepting that challenge seven years ago, led me to purchase this home and create the Dragonfly House – a world that was in me, but only birthed in conversational dance with my friend.
That reminded me of a favorite book, Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander’s The Art of Possibility. The authors beautifully contrast the worldview of scarcity and survival with that of possibility; the ‘world of measurement’ with the ‘universe of possibility’:
All the manifestations of the world of measurement – the winning and losing, the gaining of acceptance and the threatened rejection, the raised hopes and the dash into despair – all are based on a single assumption that is hidden from our awareness. The assumption is that life is about staying alive and making it through – surviving in a world of scarcity and peril…
This is the world and focus of the body. It is the world of exploitation and control, the world of mass consciousness that disregards the wisdom of nature and the deep knowing of our souls.
What if beyond that world we could begin to glimpse another and, in our glimpsing, create a more beautiful world:
… a universe of possibility that stretches beyond the world of measurement to include all worlds: infinite, generative, and abundant. Unimpeded on a daily basis by the concern for survival, free from the generalized assumption of scarcity, a person stands in the great space of possibility in a posture of openness, with an unfettered imagination for what can be. … When you are oriented to abundance, you care less about being in control, and you take more risks. … In the measurement world, you set a goal and strive for it. In the universe of possibility, you set the context and let life unfold.
The last sentence lands deep in me, a recognition I aim to live life from the universe of possibility: setting the context, showing up, inviting life to unfold, knowing that it will, adjusting the context as I learn and grow. Ultimately trusting my inner compass to navigate the waters in and the waters out.
This time between eclipses – the lunar eclipse last week and the solar eclipse coming on June 10 with the new moon – also a time of stresses and strife on the planet and in humanity seems a good time to consider what world we are living in – individually and collectively – and to make course corrections in service to ourselves, to one another, and to our planetary home. A time to reset our context and allow the world to unfold.
A Beautiful Morning in the Sangres