I dropped into full presence within an hour of being on the river. Its familiar curves welcomed us back for our annual 6-day float, just me and my beloved, no cell service, for our favorite thing: deep canyon solitude and spaciousness in which to rest in the rhythm of Us.
The first few days were cold. Cloudy. Windy. With a little rain. I shivered, splashed and goosebumpy, through the first rapid while Peter steered us downstream. He says: You're tough. I say: What do you mean? He says: You're not complaining. I say: What is there to complain about?
I hear whispers of Spirit calling me into ceremony, and I'm grateful. I am a healer, devoted to being in service... and I know that this time of my own tending is woven into the path. It's been a while since I received at this level. The riffles in my system come into view so I can see what's been stuck and needs healing. With deepest gratitude for my vulnerability, patience and trust, I use intuition and technique, moving with the soul's fascination, resting in the infinite generosity and compassion of Source. It's light work (cute, eh? Lightwork.) and finds completion easily.
Six days of childlike delight. Doglike presence. Complete relaxation. Deep sleep. A profound awareness of Earth's web. Laughter and playfulness, reverence and irreverence, curiosity and lovemaking. Stillness, slowness, and so much silence. A sacred riverprayer.
I am so grateful to be, and to be returning to my clients, renewed. Thank you, river. Thank you, life. I love you.