Doorway

I awaken from restless sleep and busy un-remembered dreams. I am alone for a quiet moment, and then the myriad of internal voices begins. First one, joined by another and another. Again I find myself at a loss to hear anything but the confusion and the worry. In these last months with their most desperate moments, I turn to the only mantra that brings some peace - “Release, Lose, Let Go and Let God… Release, Lose, Let Go and Let God…. Let Go, Let God… Let Go, Let God…. Let God.

I’d like to let God figure this whole thing out for me, but that’s not happening. And if she has some intentions there, it’s taking entirely too long and the way is becoming too complicated. In my mind I see Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Lion and the Scare Crow entering the Witch’s woods. I do hear a calling from ahead and I fell the beckoning and tugging of what may be. At last I cast my own eyes forward. But rather than a dark forest or even a long path I find myself standing at an empty doorway.

Wrought and fatigued with emotional struggle, it is only after several minutes of close study I even consider the oddity that this portal has appeared here out of nowhere. How limited my focus can become to my immediate environment and the immediate moment when my internal focus is so endless. Perhaps this door materialized as an extension of the intense inner world I reside in so frequently the days? Or perhaps I myself am on the inside rather than the door being on the outside? My life has become so different in this unbalanced state, that merging planes of existence seem only a small step away. In fact, if Death personified can come and take me away forever from all I know, why not some other force bring to me a symbol of the path I’d rather be on? As emotionally challenged as I have been I can take a hint when the universe sends me one. I am to walk through this doorway to begin my journey back to my ’normal’ place. I wonder that even that space could remain unchanged with all the events of the last few months. As I begin to sink backwards into the despair, a ray of sun flashes through the doorway and momentarily blinds me. I muster a surge of internal strength assisted by a streak of denial and tuck my problems away. While I am sometimes slow at picking up on the universe’s suggestions, even in my saddened state it is difficult to miss a direct order.

My study of the empty casing closely from both sides, notes nothing suspicious or dangerous. I stand before the supernatural doorway taking 3 deep breaths in preparation for….. “Aww Damn’ I think, ‘More of the unknown. That’s the thing I am struggling the most with! Is this some kind of ironic joke?“ With a great sigh I step through the doorway and stand simply on the other side. Nothing happens. I walk all around again to be sure I am not missing some subtle change. Still nothing. I go back through the door the way I came, just to be sure to undo anything I might have done and missed. I wonder what Captain Kirk would do right now? Feeling rather silly I stand in the same place I started. I close my eyes and take a dramatic step through to the other side. I stand quiet for a few moments to give what ever powers that be time to act. I don’t feel anything. I peek out from one eye. Looks the same to me. Darn. I open both eyes and nothing. With a big sigh I go backwards again just for suspicion’s sake. I sit down and contemplate this doorway. Pretty soon my eyes get sleepy. After all the sun is warm and the grass is comfortable. I don’t have any interesting ideas about this predicament. Without an answer to this puzzle I fall asleep.

Sometime later I awake refreshed and thankful for a deep undisturbed dreamless sleep. I notice some blackberries on a bush right beside me and snack on them. I am still perplexed about this doorway. Staring at the doorway some more doesn’t bring any new ideas. Finally I decide I have wasted enough time. I’m done waiting for something to happen TO me. At that moment, a beautiful monarch butterfly flutters around me and almost lands on my nose. I watch as it flits zig-zaggedly through the doorway and disappears. ’Disappears?’ I jump up and run through the doorway to find that I am still in the same place. “Why the butterfly and not me? Why am I different?” The meaning of this message is not entirely obvious to me, although I believe I must figure it out before I can follow.

All I can think to do is fall back on the symbolism I use when interpreting my dreams. After all, it’s likely that this IS a dream - or I’ve totally lost my mind and then it’s a psychotic dream. “Alright. If the universe is going to throw puzzles at me, I can handle that; I hope. What does a butterfly represent to me?” Butterflies evolve from one being into another. I wonder if one knows of the other or not. But in a logical space, the butterfly may recall the caterpillar, but the caterpillar might not know of the butterfly, because the butterfly hasn’t ‘become’ yet. Unless of course the butterfly comes to talk to the caterpillar. But would the caterpillar believe? I wonder if I would believe if I saw an angel and the angel told me that I would become like her. I think it would seem exciting at first. But as I realized that I have to give up my human life I would be sad. But I must also consider that this would be an evolutionary process. So the fact that I am unsure of it now only indicates that I am still a plain old caterpillar and not a caterpillar ready to spin my cocoon, let alone ready to emerge as a butterfly. I suppose no matter where I am in the journey I am still on the path even if I don’t realize it. Perhaps this is the message of the butterfly. I might as well travel with intention since I WILL be traveling whether I pay attention or not. And also to remember that there is a world of wonder and amazement that I may not even be aware of. So much has been shadowed by the Devils in my head and heart that I had forgotten that I am still part of something amazing and bigger than myself.

Now committed to starting on this strange journey and hopeful for self-realization, I step through the doorway. This time when I step through I find a backpack on the ground. Inside is a note, a BLT, a nectarine and cold water. I feel something like Alice in Wonderland must have felt when she went through the mirror. Realizing how hungry I am, I forget about Alice, and take a bite out the sandwich. I make the best BLT‘s and this one is almost as good as my own. The bread is toasted to a warm brown. The bacon is flavorful and crispy, but not crunchy. The tomatoes are summer garden fresh and the lettuce is cool and firm. Whoever supplied this sandwich also knew that I actually like BLTCGP - bacon, lettuce, tomato, cheese, green pepper and pickles! What a coincidence that one of my comfort foods appears….. ’Oh, comfort foods. Comfort - Ok I get it. I can feel comfortable here even though the situation is strange.” I send out a silent prayer of thanks - the first in months. Not the first prayer, there have been many desperate and angry prayers lately. Small thankful prayers used to be part of my every day. I do so hope that I can get back to the place where I feel I have so much to be thankful for. For now, I am loving this lunch. I pick up the nectarine and just from the texture and rich colors I can tell that it is perfectly ripe and I will need a napkin to catch the juice from my hands and chin.

I read the note:

“Congratulations on starting our journey. That old doorway hasn’t any magical properties. Just in case you were wondering. The change happened when you crossed through the door decisively, purposefully and simply started on the way rather than thinking and not acting. This brought you right to the next place you need to be. You must always start from where you are. Now you aren’t waiting to start anymore, you’re on our way! This may be a very long journey and you may want to take a few things with you. You may take whatever you think you need. This is a magical backpack, so it can store much more than it appears and will supply you with what you request.”

What an oddly profound yet, simple and practical note. “Then what?” I say out loud, but no one answers. After a drink of clear cold water, I get out the paper and pencil and start writing. First I have to check in with reality - or rather unreality. I need to know if this is real. I’m still hungry and I have a craving for something sweet so on the paper I write - desert. I reach into the backpack and pull my hand out because it came back all sandy. I look into the backpack and it’s filled with sand! Oh my. I turn it over, to empty the sand out, but the sand keeps coming and coming and coming. I start to wonder what’s going on when I catch a glimpse of the list and I see I wrote desert instead of dessert. Well that answer’s my question I suppose. I sit on my own little personal dune and cross off desert. I write in dessert and this time when I reach into the backpack, I discover a giant piece of rich dark chocolate cake. Now, this would be wonderfully delicious to someone else’s idea of a dream dessert, but it’s not mine. On the list, after dessert I write berries. In the bag I find just black berries. Beginning to understand I write this: “Raspberry turnover. The crust is browned, light and flaky. The filling is made from fresh blackberries and has that wonderful consistency of warm preserves. It is hot but not too hot to eat.” Inside the backpack I find just the turnover I described. Whipped cream on the side would be wonderful, but I hesitate at how to describe whipped cream in detail. Instead I concentrate on visualizing the flavor and taste. My side of whipped cream also appears perfectly. Licking my fingers I devour every last morsel. Feeling convinced of the backpacks magical abilities and competent in it’s use, I turn to creating my list.

It’s not clear at all what I need to provide for myself so I decide to plan for everything. That way I can be ready for anything. Planning for anything is a daunting task even for a quint-essentially planner and list maker like myself. Camping is a smaller version of planning for anything so I decide to start with what I would pack for a long camping trip. I write these categories on my list:

Food and Drink

Protection from the elements: Shelter, Clothing

Personal Hygiene

Personal interests: clothing, jewelry, hobbies, music, books, writing

Personal habits

As I consider the comprehensive nature of the specific items I will need to include, I recall the sand, chocolate cake and plain berries that appeared in the backpack. I am suddenly and deeply overwhelmed. I feel I will be here forever making this list and not even knowing what lay ahead. “Forget that, I don’t even know where ahead is! This is totally insane. I’ve lost what crackers I had left and I’m stuck in a pile of crumbs.” In defiance, I jump up and down angrily a few times and stomp my feet imagining I am crushing the crumbs even more. The physical effort diminishes the anger some and tears of frustration well up in my eyes. “Why am I alone on such a hopeless directionless journey that I have no control over?” Ever since the operation my life has been like this. Ever since the moment in the recovery room when I saw that clock and knew that the operation had taken too long. Ever since that standard operation came to include the contingency plans I had approved with my signature as ‘only ifs’ prior to the surgery. That moment of forbidding doom and it’s cause - that uncontrollable unpredictable rare Thing that is inside my body - have lived on and become the jailers of my life. I slumped to the ground in defeat. If I know what I am charged to do; if I know for what I must plan; of what I must learn; what I must cope with, I can prepare myself. I can arm myself with information and knowledge to make the best decision I am able to make. But here, once again, I find myself facing total uncertainty for which I must prepare, knowing that the more exact I am the better I will be prepared. Even the universe understands the exactness needed in preparation. Point in case - the more specific I was with my list, the more exactly I got what I really wanted. Vagueries lead to more vagaries and generalities. I struggle for a way in which I can bring the unknowns under my control. I know this is my coping mechanism to which I return time and time again. When it doesn’t work, I still return to the concept believing that I can start over and funnel my experience correctly into this process and then I will be ok. In fact, I am even able in enacting the process to feel better for a period of time. The caveat is that when I realize I really do not have control the resulting emotional crash is rather severe. I stop in this moment to credit myself at least with the ability to see objectively what happens, even if I am not able emotionally to stop it. Yes, I do crave and struggle for control when I am out of sorts. But if control doesn’t work, and I still need a way to be exact about what I desire thereby drawing the experiences I desire, what am I to do?

I stare at the backpack on the ground and reread the note. I analyze the note more closely and re-interpret in more conceptual terms: The first thing I notice is that whoever left me this note included themselves in ‘our journey‘. I missed that the first time. So maybe I‘m not entirely alone. Could this be my angel speaking to my caterpillar self? I continue with a more open mind. “My change in perception changed my experience and started me on a journey. I need to accept that I am where I am, but that is where I need to be. This could take awhile, but I have a vehicle for getting whatever I think I need.”

If my perception only changed enough to get me this far, then I am in trouble. I gaze at the curious doorway that appears to go nowhere from nowhere. Perhaps I can concentrate on the idea of the on-going journey. I test those waters and feel as well as see the doorway shimmer slightly. In a breath the rippling sensation and vision are gone. This concept of journeying is not new to me and I am comfortable in it’s possession. Nor is it new to me that not only is there an ultimate higher being but that there are also higher versions of myself. What is good for me is the directness of communication in the note. I am reminded that guidance comes in many forms if I am open to them. I wonder that I could have forgotten this and I begin to see how despair and dark emotions have closed my eyes to this knowledge over the last few months.

Following meditation techniques I’ve learned before, I breathe in deeply and when I exhale I exhale down envisioning that I am grounding myself with the earth. When I feel grounded, I then exhale upward envisioning a release and flow of energy connecting me to the universe. Then I can also breathe ‘life’ in pulling all the energy and being around me into myself and opening my soul to let the universe in. I stumble at this part. I have closed off part of myself and I feel the inhibitions blocking the energy flow through my body. Some parts of me are closed off and stagnant. I continue to breath in universal life and send it to those abandoned parts of myself. While I can experience this sensation physically I also know that this is a mental and spiritual exercise. It takes some time, but it comes to be that the energy begins to move through me and I am able to reconnect with the universe, drawing it to me and stretching myself out into its endless nature. The experience is one of release, freedom, & strength.

Rich with the experience of visualization I look at that back pack and start to visualize the individual things I think I may need on this journey. I watch the back pack get very full and become a briefcase and then a trunk and then a large crate. Feeling like I have accomplished something good, and hoping that this magic crate will magically fit through a magic door, I fall asleep, satisfied with my progress and with the warm understanding that someone is watching over me while I rest.

I awaken with a start, fuzzy still with leftover dreaming and not recognizing where I am. The doorway presents itself into my vision as I look around trying to orient myself. Recollections from my dream begin to poke at me from the outskirts of unconsciousness, so I close my eyes and let the dream recreate itself in my semi-conscious mind.

I see myself writing furiously piling up page after page and sharpening my pencil a hundred times. I am working on a list of things I think I will need to get through whatever experiences come my way. From the corner of my mind I see a shimmering light that blinks and dances and darts about trying to get my attention. I am writing so furiously intent on my mission that I cannot spare the attention this dancer requests. As I consciously block the disturbance from my mind, my pencil breaks again and then again. Wind from an open window somewhere outside the space I am working in blows across my papers threatening to suck them up into a spiraling mini whirlwind. With one hand clamped on my now sharpened pencil and one hand forcefully protecting my work so far I go back to my work. I look down at the current paper and see an extremely detailed list of what I think I might need to get through life. Inks spills onto the paper… Wait a minute… I thought I was writing in pencil?. I look down and see I now grasp an ancient quill and ink bottle. What a mess. As I reach out for a rag to clean this mess, the mirage dances more fervently. I am unable to simultaneously cleanup this ink mess and protect my list and I lose the battle with the whirlwind. As I watch the whirling dervish of papers disappear out the window, I fall back into my chair in exhaustion and defeat. All that work lost. I will have to start over again. I look at the ink smears on my hands and on the one last remaining piece of paper. As this sheet ruffles in a slight breeze, I finally look up at the dancing mirage. My acknowledgement seems to give it strength and a new breeze blows through the room sweeping a hidden piece of paper from somewhere. The paper rocks slowly on the breeze and floats silently down to land on the desk before me. I look down at it to see a list written in large graceful dark letters. As I begin to read through the list of 10 words, I recognized it as the 10 things I used to pray for - the 10 things I decided I needed. I recalled how I had created this list during an oasis of hope in the desert of darkness. I created this list, because I was so lost I did not know even where to start my prayers. I prayed a lot for these 10 things and I believed in them and in the prayer. In the dream, exhaustion overcomes me and I fall asleep.

I begin to awaken from the dream for the second time and fight the rising awareness of my surroundings. I want to go back to the dream and read the list of 10 for I have forgotten what it is in my conscious life. In the most ironic of moments, the dream world fades away taking with it exactly the information that I need at this moment. I may not recall the list, but I know that what’s on it is the answer to my current situation. I pick up the paper with the list I had been working on. In some testament to the reality of dreams, I see that the tips of my fingers are stained with ink. With a new awareness of what I need to do, I cross off everything I had listed there. I pause and concentrate hard for a moment. When I open my eyes, the large wooden crate is once again a back pack - and a rather empty looking one at that. With a small smile on my lips, I reach into the side pocket and remove a trowel and a cigarette lighter. I dig a small hole, tear the paper into small bits and drop them into the shallow hole. With a short prayer of thanks for my new understanding I set the shredded pieces afire and release everything they represent back to the universe. As they burn, I turn to pen and paper again this time writing from my heart and soul to recreate that list of 10. I pause only for a moment to watch the ashes float up and out into the universe. I am reminded of the Phoenix whose song becomes sad and who must die in flames in order to be reborn and arise from the ashes to sing it’s magnificent song again.

As the small fire dies down, I transcend and release all that’s been drowning and suffocating me. I let go of needing control, of needing detail, and of fighting my invisible demons. All that I’d built around me to protect myself only helped to shut me off from others and from the wonders of higher being. I let go of needing to do it all myself and I put trust and faith back into my higher being, my universe, my God. Whatever I want to call it may be different in different moments and times in my life. Essentially it is all the same. It‘s not what we experience, but that we are experiencing. It isn’t that we need to believe in a master plan, but that we believe that we are always where we need to be. It’s not that we need to know where we are going so that we can control our circumstances, but that guidance is always available if only we are open to the many ways that messages and information make their way to us. It is being - just being - that makes us part of the bigger universe. That home is as much a part of who we are as where we are. And that all things shall come to pass in order to make way for what is yet to come.

This caterpillar finally heard and believed the butterfly and fell asleep to dream of spinning a warm and safe cocoon.

Epilogue

The crying young woman tripped over the back pack that sat in the middle of the path she was running down. She caught herself, just barely by grasping onto the door frame just in front of her. The incident brought more tears of frustration to run down the dusty trails on her cheeks. After a few moments, her crying subsided enough for her to wonder how odd to find a full back pack and an empty doorway in the middle of this lonely path. She reached into the bag and pulled out a note, a roast beef and cheddar sandwich, a pear and ice cold milk. As she bit into the pear and unfolded the note, a monarch butterfly that looked like the tips of it’s wings had been dipped in ink, almost landed on her nose, and then flit zig-zaggedly through the doorway and disappeared.

Note from the author:

The list of 10 is a real list of 11 created by me in March of 2004. I continue to use it in prayer and practice not just doing these things, but being them.

Faith, Grace, Strength, Courage, Knowledge, Guidance, Support, Wisdom, Truth, Love, Joy