Rock bursts into flame overhead as a waxing, crescent moon hangs in a high desert sky. A deep, guttural purring emerges from the thick sage brush across from us. Giggling with nervous energy, I hug her arm close to me. It was only two years ago when I brushed up closely with Mountain Lion energy here on this magical land. To calm our nerves, we begin singing to the darkness of the bushes, "We are here and you are there and we are all happy together." Innocently, we make our way onto the wooden platform where a series of outdoor hot tubs reside.
Lounging, naked and vulnerable, her leg dangles limply in the scalding water as I alternate submerging my lower torso in and out of the tub. This is the place of complete surrender. We sit in quiet stillness, our breathing natural, our minds relatively still. I speak the thoughts that are on her lips. There is no denying how in tune our two bodies, these divine instruments, are. "Play the instrument that you are," is how she likes to tell it. She calls it "Soular Power." I call it, "Bee-ing LOVE." Different words, same meaning.
When the sun has once again risen, our timeless flow continues. There is no rushing, no pushing, no chasing after some illusive dream. There is no forcing a way here. There is only a deep listening - to the birds screeching overhead, to the feel of the cool wind across our faces, and to the Earth's primal call for us to fulfill our destiny. Master Builders; the purpose for why we are here, now, has everything to do with a blueprint and a creative way forward. We acknowledge the contract that so many of us, drawn together at this exact moment in time, made millennium ago. We honor that now is the time to evolve as well as to end our karmic agreements. The foundation will bee built on a blank canvas, a slate wiped clean of all of the karma of our past deeds.
High noon, and a black thundercloud rolls overhead. Fat raindrops, splitting on the windshield, erase the stagnant air of this high desert terrain. A pungent smell of wet Earth begins to rise. Slowly navigating the car over the dirt road, our eyes feast upon the landscape as we dream while awake. In the blink of an eye, we drive up on a Red-Tailed Hawk taking flight with a 3' snake dangling from its talons. She sits beside me, her eyes wide and her hand waving, as I exclaim, "QUETZALCOATL!"
Less than 25 yards further ahead, a white & gray Falcon sits tall and proud on a fencepost. We pull up beside it, driver side window down, fat raindrops drizzling in. Tourists in our home town, "Welcome to East County, San Diego," an invisible sign blinks on and off. We chuckle, in mirth and magic, as we return to the busyness of contracts & agreements, of microwaves & cell phones, of interference and city living.
