Just a few seconds feel like a long time. Yet time does so not exist here.
I am about to observe what happened lifetimes ago. Nevertheless when I am there it feels like yesterday. For some reason it feels like I already know what I am about to understand.
The village is encircled by rolling lush hillsides and mountaintops capped with summer frost. This is his people.
We met picking poppies in the fields. He just back from the last war. Me leaving the sacred grasses of the lowlands behind. Leaving my people behind. The people of the winds, the seas the hearts and the storms.
Among the mountains I found peace. Wisdom. We lived according to the ancient samurai code, ordained from the times before the emperors. What was to later be called The Tao guided us. We all flowed with it. The entire village. From the outside it might have looked like a hard life up there in the mountains. From the inside we bloomed, the mountain bloomed, all was sacred.
One day he travelled with four of the sons of the village to meet with the people down the river, the Fisherfolks. The five of them never arrived. The five of them never came back. At least not on horseback.
At the time of the funeral pyre it seemed natural to the whole village that ”the she” should suceed as our lives, our practice, our guidance had intertwined and interwoven like one. The Tao told to handle every big matter like it was small, every small matter like it was big. I accepted.
My practice thrived. The village thrived. The children thrived. Yet inside there was a hole growing deeper and stronger. I knew we would meet again, so it was not his energy I was missing. I knew next time I would be the teacher, he needing me.
That day in the poppy field I had made a promise to myself, to fill my true purpose with all my heart and soul. I was there holding ceremony. No matter how much peace, joy and fulfillment the deviation of path right now was gifting to the world around me, this was not the path. It had been the best school ever. I had even more to dive into. I was filled to the brim with gratefulness, but it was time to leave.
How does one leave four young children and a whole village? One doesn´t.
I hear wolves howling. A crying howl , looking for a missing wolfpup. It touches the soul of my bones. I know I have to and that I can let go now. Let go of a promise not mine still and all fulfilled in the Land of The Dragon. Meet The Promise to fulfill in my soul, the cry in the wild.
- Cecilia Götherström, Dec 9th 2018