From the time I was a small child I was fascinated with the night sky. Living out in the country in the Midwest offered me a magnificent view of the mysterious worlds beyond.
It was not unusual to hear the adults in my tiny farming community communing about the heavens. They knew that the heavens controlled the weather. Weather was their survival and it was mentioned in every conversation I ever heard as a child. Later I realized that their comments about the weather were actually outward descriptions of internal feelings. For instance, if someone felt good, they would talk about a day that was sunny. If someone was sad, rain would work its way into the conversation. They religiously planted and harvested by the moon, and consulted the predictions in the Farmers’ Almanac more frequently and reverently than any other source.
My curiosity about the night sky was further piqued by the stories my grandfather told me about the constellations of the stars. I loved discovering which ones were visible depending on the time of year it was when we were out watching. I found it interesting to imagine children in other parts of the world seeing constellations that were not in our view.
The Big Dipper felt at times like my best friend because it seemed to always be waiting for me and I always found it. I became completely attached to the North Star as a guide that would let me know where I was and show me the way home.
Without a doubt, my early bonding with the stars was an extremely important reference point for me. The stars were SO FAR AWAY! It was their influence on my feelings, my sense of self, my assurance of protection and safety and consolation whenever I needed it, that established within myself a foundation for being on the earth.
During the daytime you would find me sitting high up on a branch in a tree watching the clouds and trying to imagine where the stars were. The big fluffy cumulus clouds, prevalent in that part of the world, would slowly float by against a brilliant blue sky. Their shapes took on the forms of horses, towers, dragons, dogs and cats, and a myriad of other things. It was peaceful up there and I felt like I was part of the tree, the sky, the breeze and myself.
I started observing my house and family from up in the tree. The drama I was a part of when I was with them induced feelings of frustration, anger and being embroiled in an enormous muddle. There were so many expectations that I felt like a dog yanked up by a short leash. There were many ideas about who I was, what I was to do (and not do), and how it was to be perfectly done. There were the things I was allowed to share with those outside the family and many things I was to keep secret. (This paragraph would not have been allowed!) When I was with my family, I felt deep pain, alone, unsupported, unsafe, and not seen or heard. I had no choices, no chance to be or even know myself, and a lot of confusion from what I intuitively picked up of what the others were doing and not talking about. Living in that drama made me an extremely unhappy little girl.
More and more often I turned to the trees, the clouds and the stars for more honest feedback and comfort. One day, musing up in a tree, I realized that I was compartmentalizing my chaotic outer life and my more comfortable inner life. This was what was creating a feeling of being split in two.
That very day I began to observe myself when I was with my family from a different perspective. What I witnessed when I was around them was that I took on their anger, fear, and dysfunction as a way of protecting myself from having it targeted at me. When I took it on and expressed it, at least I had something I could do with the displaced undertow. This gave me the illusion that I had some control. I realized the feelings I was taking on were theirs. In contrast, my feelings, especially when I was in my favorite tree, were peaceful, happy and most importantly, mine. I felt better when I was away from their quagmire.
My predicament was disheartening. I had more awareness and understanding of the split between my two worlds but only questions and no answers as to how to harmoniously bring them together. I had an inside life and an outside one. I had unknowingly begun the search that put me on the path of my life journey to resolve what I later identified as core life lessons. It took many years to appreciate that it was my discomfort that gave me the motivation to have the courage to keep going even when the path got rocky. I had become a seeker.
I began to become acquainted with my inner self. When I was quiet and away from all the hubbub I could hear my own thoughts, feel my own feelings, and dream my own dreams. These emerged from my inner self and came to me whenever I listened. The first thing I had to do was to separate the entanglement of the two worlds so that I could experience and discover my own true self. From that early age on my life has been about trying to establish a strong connection with my inner self and integrate my day-to-day outer life with the soothing, creative inner source that I experience as connected to everything.
Through the years the Universe did its part helping me create just the right complicated situations and people to learn these life lessons and explore and discover my personal core beliefs. Life was no longer just a big soap opera happening to me from the outside. I began to see how I created the same story over and over again. As the lessons spiraled back again time after time, I realized that even though the people and situations were the same while looking different, my response was same. Oh, no! The common denominator was me! There was nowhere to turn but inside to find out how I was creating these reoccurring patterns.
I began to grow my inner life. I sought out wise friends and drew inspiring therapists to guide me. Books jumped out at me in bookstores and shed light on my queries. I explored the beliefs of different religious traditions, spiritual practices, poetry, psychology, mythology, and nature. The more I learned the less I felt like I knew. My curiosity drove me onward and I began to feel more confident and comfortable with my life.
Every day seemed like an amazing unfolding of myself. Synchronistic happenings in my outer world began to mirror my newly emerging inner life. People and opportunities, aligned with my more expansive sense of self, were drawn to me like a magnet. The meaning of the awareness I had realized while up in the trees as a child was becoming more clear. I liked it. My life was emerging according to my own creation, not haphazardly happening to me. I was astonished to experience my outer life working together so harmoniously with my inner life and authentic self. I was finding joy in both worlds as they imperceptibly began merging into one. The length and breadth of Heaven and Earth was integrating into a seamless whole.
Today, my connection to the stars, clouds, sky and my inner self are present in every moment I am creating, and plays an integral part of my life. My relationship with Spirit and the fond memories from childhood are now mine, both in the quiet times and the busy ones.
The next time there is a starry starry night or a big full moon, you can bet I’ll be there looking up with a smile on my face. Maybe you’ll be looking, too? We can experience the magic together.
It was not unusual to hear the adults in my tiny farming community communing about the heavens. They knew that the heavens controlled the weather. Weather was their survival and it was mentioned in every conversation I ever heard as a child. Later I realized that their comments about the weather were actually outward descriptions of internal feelings. For instance, if someone felt good, they would talk about a day that was sunny. If someone was sad, rain would work its way into the conversation. They religiously planted and harvested by the moon, and consulted the predictions in the Farmers’ Almanac more frequently and reverently than any other source.
My curiosity about the night sky was further piqued by the stories my grandfather told me about the constellations of the stars. I loved discovering which ones were visible depending on the time of year it was when we were out watching. I found it interesting to imagine children in other parts of the world seeing constellations that were not in our view.
The Big Dipper felt at times like my best friend because it seemed to always be waiting for me and I always found it. I became completely attached to the North Star as a guide that would let me know where I was and show me the way home.
Without a doubt, my early bonding with the stars was an extremely important reference point for me. The stars were SO FAR AWAY! It was their influence on my feelings, my sense of self, my assurance of protection and safety and consolation whenever I needed it, that established within myself a foundation for being on the earth.
During the daytime you would find me sitting high up on a branch in a tree watching the clouds and trying to imagine where the stars were. The big fluffy cumulus clouds, prevalent in that part of the world, would slowly float by against a brilliant blue sky. Their shapes took on the forms of horses, towers, dragons, dogs and cats, and a myriad of other things. It was peaceful up there and I felt like I was part of the tree, the sky, the breeze and myself.
I started observing my house and family from up in the tree. The drama I was a part of when I was with them induced feelings of frustration, anger and being embroiled in an enormous muddle. There were so many expectations that I felt like a dog yanked up by a short leash. There were many ideas about who I was, what I was to do (and not do), and how it was to be perfectly done. There were the things I was allowed to share with those outside the family and many things I was to keep secret. (This paragraph would not have been allowed!) When I was with my family, I felt deep pain, alone, unsupported, unsafe, and not seen or heard. I had no choices, no chance to be or even know myself, and a lot of confusion from what I intuitively picked up of what the others were doing and not talking about. Living in that drama made me an extremely unhappy little girl.
More and more often I turned to the trees, the clouds and the stars for more honest feedback and comfort. One day, musing up in a tree, I realized that I was compartmentalizing my chaotic outer life and my more comfortable inner life. This was what was creating a feeling of being split in two.
That very day I began to observe myself when I was with my family from a different perspective. What I witnessed when I was around them was that I took on their anger, fear, and dysfunction as a way of protecting myself from having it targeted at me. When I took it on and expressed it, at least I had something I could do with the displaced undertow. This gave me the illusion that I had some control. I realized the feelings I was taking on were theirs. In contrast, my feelings, especially when I was in my favorite tree, were peaceful, happy and most importantly, mine. I felt better when I was away from their quagmire.
My predicament was disheartening. I had more awareness and understanding of the split between my two worlds but only questions and no answers as to how to harmoniously bring them together. I had an inside life and an outside one. I had unknowingly begun the search that put me on the path of my life journey to resolve what I later identified as core life lessons. It took many years to appreciate that it was my discomfort that gave me the motivation to have the courage to keep going even when the path got rocky. I had become a seeker.
I began to become acquainted with my inner self. When I was quiet and away from all the hubbub I could hear my own thoughts, feel my own feelings, and dream my own dreams. These emerged from my inner self and came to me whenever I listened. The first thing I had to do was to separate the entanglement of the two worlds so that I could experience and discover my own true self. From that early age on my life has been about trying to establish a strong connection with my inner self and integrate my day-to-day outer life with the soothing, creative inner source that I experience as connected to everything.
Through the years the Universe did its part helping me create just the right complicated situations and people to learn these life lessons and explore and discover my personal core beliefs. Life was no longer just a big soap opera happening to me from the outside. I began to see how I created the same story over and over again. As the lessons spiraled back again time after time, I realized that even though the people and situations were the same while looking different, my response was same. Oh, no! The common denominator was me! There was nowhere to turn but inside to find out how I was creating these reoccurring patterns.
I began to grow my inner life. I sought out wise friends and drew inspiring therapists to guide me. Books jumped out at me in bookstores and shed light on my queries. I explored the beliefs of different religious traditions, spiritual practices, poetry, psychology, mythology, and nature. The more I learned the less I felt like I knew. My curiosity drove me onward and I began to feel more confident and comfortable with my life.
Every day seemed like an amazing unfolding of myself. Synchronistic happenings in my outer world began to mirror my newly emerging inner life. People and opportunities, aligned with my more expansive sense of self, were drawn to me like a magnet. The meaning of the awareness I had realized while up in the trees as a child was becoming more clear. I liked it. My life was emerging according to my own creation, not haphazardly happening to me. I was astonished to experience my outer life working together so harmoniously with my inner life and authentic self. I was finding joy in both worlds as they imperceptibly began merging into one. The length and breadth of Heaven and Earth was integrating into a seamless whole.
Today, my connection to the stars, clouds, sky and my inner self are present in every moment I am creating, and plays an integral part of my life. My relationship with Spirit and the fond memories from childhood are now mine, both in the quiet times and the busy ones.
The next time there is a starry starry night or a big full moon, you can bet I’ll be there looking up with a smile on my face. Maybe you’ll be looking, too? We can experience the magic together.
