As we move closer to the season change, I am reminded of the smallness of our world. It was the summer of 1969 and I was a young child staying with my grandmother on the banks of the Green River. Usually by this time in the evening Grandmother would have put me to bed, notice I didn't say "to sleep". She knew that it was the darkness and night that brought the more interesting spirits around, and her little boy blue would not miss that.
On this particular night she stood up from her rocking recliner and said, lets go out and see the men on the moon!!! We made our way out the front door and down the wooden steps onto the yard already moist with dew. The night air was cool and the view of the stars was crystal clear. I still remember the way her hand felt in mine, soft and wrinkled and stronger than any beast known to man or God.
She stooped down and said, "look, can you see them walking around?" Never wanting to disappoint her I said, "I think so". She then explained to me that even though our mental/physiological capacity did not allow us to register that we saw them, we indeed did. I was only around 3 years old but I remember those words, and having absolutely NO idea what she was talking about, but she smelled like sugar cookies so she had my undivided attention.
We then went back in the house and her phone was ringing, two short rings and one long ring, she had a true "party line". It was a lady from the next town over in distress. "Now you go on to bed", she said "I have work to do, and don't forget your prayers".
As I was told I went back to my small bedroom in her shack, laying on the tiny bed and looking out the window at the large backyard. To the right I could see the reflection of the moon on the river, to the left the wood line that held mysteries and a world of opportunity. Directly back from my window I could see the out house with its well worn path. On this particular night there were at least a dozen rabbits running around. I watched them for a minute th then off to sleep.
My dreams were full of fantasy that evening. Perhaps due to the conversation with my grandmother, or due to the work she was doing in the next room.
Years later it dawned on me that she had taken me out on the night of the moon landing, she had used a mundane opportunity to instill a magical truth into my developing psyche. She had planted a seed in me, one that would take years to come to fruition but one that was potent and true. The intent is every bit as important as the anticipated outcome and it does not matter what we see with our physical eyes, its what we direct with our cosmic consciousness.
In our small worlds it can be easy to forget to plant those seeds. We spend so much time hunting and gathering, defending and attacking and focusing on the lack in our own lives.
One of the most effect seed planting methods is meditation. There is no right or wrong way to meditate, it is the intent and focus that is important. It is also important for us to be in contact with nature. The manner in which we achieve this contact is irrelevant, it is that we do. It can be sitting watching your goldfish, your puppy or just looking out the window at the sky. Do this consistently and with intent to connect.
As always if you have any questions send me an email or message and I am happy to discuss. I wish you blessings and light.
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