The beauty of Spirit – of Creator is that He or She has limitless ways to communicate with us. We must be present and aware to see the cords, the people, the places, the moments that connect everything and everyone together.
Late last year, my soul sister, friend and teacher, Bernadette Torres and I attended an amazing workshop with a woman we call La Grande. Her real name is Dr. Teresa Crosier. I don’t really know why Bernadette calls her La Grande but, I suspect we share similar reasons. Dr. Crosier is one of those people who is living love. She embodies the energy of Mother Mary or Tara or Kuan Yin. She is a teacher, a healer and a lover. She is the embodiment of light and oh so wise! The workshop was held in Ghost Ranch, New Mexico.
Ghost Ranch is a magical place filled with rainbow rocks and bending light. There are birds in the stones and the ancestors feel so close sometimes you can feel their breath in your bones. We stayed in the area near the heart labyrinth. That morning before our class began, I told Bernadette I wanted to go out with the morning sun and walk the labyrinth. She brought her Native American flute and played divine beauty that seemed to stretch out and kiss the stones. We shared, as we often do, our spiritual experiences. We spoke of da’at – of the place of darkness where all of the mystery and mending happens. In the sky above, us an eagle danced in the wind.
“It’s riding the wind’s waves. I love that feeling” I told Bernadette. She asked me what I meant. I told her once in prayer/meditation without intention, I shape shifted. I became an eagle and flew. The air – the wind felt like the ocean’s waves and it was magic. I traveled and saw people and things that later were confirmed. I don’t know how it happened but, I do know why but, that’s a different story. This story is about a photo taken on an older iPhone. After sharing the shape shifting story, Bernadette told me as she placed on her hands on her belly, “It’s there – once its there its always there. You can do it again.” To be honest, I held both doubt and hope simultaneously.
We moved to the labyrinth and walked it. Slowly – allowing ourselves to be recognized by our Mother and allowing the holiness of the place to rise up through us. I took photos of the labyrinth, the prayer flags, the offerings others had left behind. Later, I took a photo of Bernadette and then within 30 seconds we switched places and she snapped my photo.
I have this habit of looking for orbs in photos. They happen a lot with me or streaks of lights that look like openings – portals between the realms. On our afternoon break I went through the photos and in Bernadette’s photo there was a black light or orb. I flipped back and forth to the photos before and the photos after looking for it again. Nothing. Bernadette and I were examining the photos discussing the possibilities of what this was when La Grande approached us. She looked at the photo and then swiped backward and forward, only once. She said with a little smile, “Ladies, this isn’t the photo you should be paying attention to.” She swiped forward to the next photo taken in the same minute as Bernadette’s – my photo. “This is the photo you need to look at.” We did not see “it” until she pointed it out and then there was no denying it.
In these photos, I believe Creator – Spirit – God showed us evidence of both of da’at and confirmation of what Bernadette said. Once it is there it is always there. My shadow is not my shadow. It is other worldly filled with feathers or fins but, nothing that even closely resembles me. We were in the middle of a desert – no wind, no clouds, just sky and stones and earth. An Apache man said I was the eagle dancer not knowing the back story . . . I do not know. I only know there are things that defy logic and like most of the truly important things in life they are meant only to be felt and experienced.
Sometimes, in a single conversation – spoken with intention and truth, a whole world can be revealed.
Once we were all the nothing and everything – belonging to all things. It’s still there.
Blessings,
Elizabeth
Photo by James Padolsey on Unsplash