Off A Cliff

6/1/10

Round 1: The Set-Up

Having spent the weekend letting loose in Memphis, I had run around for several days in the sweltering, humid city — dancing and sweating, reclining in grass or sitting on dirty benches, and otherwise becoming a content but filthy mess. I decided it was time to freshen up so headed to a truck stop, paying for a nice shower while doing my laundry. Clean and shiny again, I headed to the rest stop where I intended to sleep for the night. Coming out of the bathroom, I noticed a janitor buffing the floor. At least, that’s the thought I had before I suddenly slipped and fell — hard — right on my face. Assessing myself, I realized I was unhurt but covered in wet wax. My newly cleaned clothes and fresh body were now a sticky mess. The janitor, horrified, helped me up and proceeded to try to clean me up — being ridiculously inappropriate I might add, though I took it with good humor. Still, I smelled of wax and had nasty clothes when I left the area. That was Round 1.

The next day I went to Pinson Mounds in Pinson, TN. This is a prehistoric ceremonial village which dates to about the time of Christ. It is also said to be a known power spot.  It was hot there and, as I ate my lunch in the picnic area, I was wishing it would really rain instead of just piddling around with all the brief sprinkles and showers Father Sky had been offering. I got my wish when, suddenly, there was a great downpour with a thunderstorm. I lay in my van enjoying the rain hitting the metal roof of my car. Eventually it cleared, and I emerged to walk the mounds. I took about ten steps before it happened.

Round 2: Fall Down, Get Back Up

My feet lost all traction and, unable to stop it, observed myself helplessly slide face-first into the mud. My arms, where I had tried to break the fall, and my entire front from the waist down were covered. I stood, arms spread wide from my body, looking for a place in the park where I might wash this newest mishap from my body. Sometimes, it just doesn’t pay to bathe. I finally did find a spigot, washing myself best I could and, when at last I found a bathroom, changed from my muddied clothes to yet another freshly-washed pair.

Finally, as the day wore toward sunset, I walked around the mounds a bit, following my usual routine of inviting the spirits of the land and the ancestors to lead me, guide me, and reveal to me anything they so chose. It was close to closing time by then and I was listening intensely, as I wanted to make sure I did whatever was most important. This turned out to be climbing Saul’s Mound, which is 72 feet high, I believe.

Sunset from Saul's Mound

At this place, the archeologists had found the remains of posts that indicated that the people had had a structure there that was exactly aligned to the four directions. So up I climbed, ascending the six flights of stairs to reach the spot which was, most likely, a place where the stars and directions were studied, honored, and consulted. It was here, atop this rise, that I greeted the four directions and my animal guides, allowing energy of this power spot to fill me, lift me, and lighten me up. My past twenty four hours had been challenging — and comical — but I was no worse for the wear. And so it is that we learn to laugh at life, to take the slippery-slidey challenges into stride. We fall down, we get up. A good dose of humor helps this process immensely. And so I carry this story — this memory of being a muddy mess — fondly, as a reminder to always laugh at myself and my circumstances. Ho. Thank you Spirit.