Remembering Myself

by Trishuwa

There is a time when the clock of the universe stands still.

All is moving in a timeless manner, as it always has been.

I walked into that time.

I was four. I didn’t know about risk or caution. I just knew I was more afraid in the night. The unspoken fear, the karmic darkness of my family, swirled in the thick shadows of our house. I knew it was real. I lay awake while the rest of the family slept doing my best to keep the darkness from entering me. With each outward breath I blew into the darkness to keep it at bay. Then without hesitation I moved, climbing onto the windowsill. The window was open. Hiking my night gown up around my waist I twisted my body around. My tummy teetered on the broad adobe windowsill, toes reaching for the ground, finally dropping the last few inches and gently landing on comforting earth.

The light of the full moon and star filled sky covered the earth. I ran through the garden, down its middle. My feet knew the soft path. My destination was the south end where the cultivated and wild tangled together untended by human hand. It was my favorite place. I had a spiritual meeting, a rendezvous with a soul memory from many lifetimes. I danced free, the stars, moon, wind and night beings were my companions, partners in the dance. I never thought of us as as wild, but I suppose that is as good a word as any. I abandoned any restraints that kept me from the moment to moment intimacy of moving with all life. My nightgown and bare feet danced and twirled with unseen pulses emanating from the breath of all life. At first light I returned to my house, my kin. I could not survive without them. At the age of four I just could not.

Overtime I withdrew into my own interior dark fears. I adopted formulas, prescriptions for living that insured safety, not being alone. Like a dog looking for food in his bowl each morning I looked for love, safety. In my thirties the constructed daily patterns, my formulas for my life began to unravel. Memories of that little girl that danced with the stars, the moon and all life had long been denied. They came flooding back, emotions were uncontrollable, life plans carefully designed were no longer viable. I went a little crazy.

My dreams decaying,
tattered and un-mendable,
a barren life canvas revealed,
empty and void of dimension.

A dozen years later life was better. I lived on wild land that bordered national forest. When I looked into the eyes of a coyote, a mountain lion, watched a deer bound across a meadow my body sensed the touch of a wild being. This touch sometimes brought fear, but always it brought excitement. I was looking into the eyes of one who lives on their own and yet knows that relationship exists with everything. Knowing this is the only way to survive in the wild.

Knowing this is the only way to survive and feel free.

Not free from pain or even fear, but free to respond with choice, my choice, your choice. Not a one time choice for your whole life, but choice made in each moment. A response to knowledge, instinct and need. Each response unique as each moment is unique.

These were years of learning about power, the right use of it, marriage of heart and mind. I was all over the place, up and down, turning myself inside out, wounding myself and others as I reclaimed my place on mother earth. Often forgetting that we are all inner-dependent, although I on many occasions spoke the words, “All My Relations,” in prayer. I was so busy being free that I forgot to question every action, response I made. What the heck I had to have my truth. Sometimes I did have balance and a generous heart with clear thinking, and wow, did it feel good, free.

Wildness is a paradox, and to me,
part of it means living with the ringing truth that we are alone
AND that we are an irrevocable part of a web at the same time,
and that our actions reflect that. Not easy, but a beautiful gift to give to Creator.
~ Sara Caldwell

Then I was lucky. An unforeseen change came into my life. It was like rounding the bend and right in your path is a wild bear, a coiled rattlesnake, an unknown. I didn’t see it coming and it shook me to my very core. I bucked, I chafed at my self made bit and all the while pretending I had my life in order. The truth was I was not in control, never had been. Other life does what it does I can only respond. I was groundless. Then one day catching an unexpected glimpse of myself in a mirror I saw myself without preconceived notions. I liked her.

Who is this person
that knows so much?
She wears my clothes.
Where are her robes,
her jewels, her oils
of sweet scents?
I will dress her, anoint her
as she desires.
Will she look back in the mirror
at this one who has stolen her clothes?
I will wear her true nature.
Perhaps we will become as one.

Since then I’ve been different. It is not always easy or pain free but I know how to find my way to the moment, the dance. I like myself and often feel happy, and usually feel joy. All along I was looking for intimacy with me. I know we all say this but experiencing it is quite wonderful.

Intimate touching with soul and body,
watchful attention, aware creation,
archetypes woven into existence
with the intricate threads of life,
always and forever changing, death,
conception, birth in each moment.

I am an old woman now, just past 70. I have risen and fallen a few times and now I am in Grandmother Time. Not what I expected and yet like all the other times; child, daughter, mother, grandmother time is calling my soul, my body, my heart to be accountable to all my relations. I’m not sure how to live this time, but I will do my best moment to moment.

Much love to all of you,


Journal, Volume 1 Issue 2