The temple is cold. It’s been constructed with open walls and the icy Colorado mountain air fills the space. The YagyaTemple is lovingly called ‘The Spaceship’ by the sadhakas that live here, as it is constructed according to precise specifications of the ancient Vedas, made of specific wood and in dimensions spelled out thousands of years ago.
I pull the rough wool blanket tighter around my shoulders and approach the fire. The quiet is deep, save the soft echo of whispered chants, the clicks of the little gadget counting those chants and the pop and hiss of the flames as the rice offerings kiss the heat.
I take my seat at the edge of the fire pit and my bowl of sacred rice. The fire is already two days old, burning constantly, twenty-four hours per day, with devotees feeding it rice and aromatic herbs, breath and the blessing of the Goddess through chant.
The fire will burn for a total of nine days, the entire time witnessed, protected and fed by at least two people.
I signed up for my shift yesterday, filled with uncertainty that I’ll be able to endure the entire two-hours. I feel awkward and unqualified. I sign up for a late evening shift, thinking that I can slip off to bed right after. I worry about making mistakes.
But when I sit down at the fire and give myself to the chant something inside softens. I forget the deep chill of my back body. It feels warm and fluid. Again and again I take a pinch of rice and circle it over my heart before whispering the sacred sounds into it and casting it into the bright light.
Everything falls away. I am only aware of the fire. Everything else falls away. Occasionally I see in my peripheral vision someone getting up to add more wood to the massive pit. I don’t move of shift except for the gentle rocking induced by the chant. I disappear into the ceremony.
At some point soon after I sit down someone gently places their hand on my shoulder. I look up, feeling very far away, very deep inside myself. She says gently, “It’s time to go rest. I’ll take over from here.” Her smile looks like the fire.
I feel a little confused. I see light outside and realize it’s the rising sun. I hadn’t sat at the fire for two hours but rather it had been eight! Without realizing it, I leapt outside of time and space. I’m not sure my prayers have been answered, but I feel a permanent shift in the current of my life. I know my relationship with time and space will never quite be the same.
The above story I share with you from the archives of my life. As a wide-eyed twenty-two-year-old I was living in an ashram high in the Rocky Mountains, seeking to live deeply, openly, magically.
I share this with you because I want more than anything for you to understand that things like healing, empowerment and even life itself don’t work the way we think they do. We are stuck inside of cages whose bars we don’t see. And we tend to give up on ourselves mighty easy, without realizing that the seeing walls and blocks we face are inwardly conjured regurgitation of the past, that have nothing to do with what is actually possible now.
It’s often said in Shamanic circles that we think we have 10,000 problems that require 10,000 solutions. But in truth we just have one problem with 10,000 manifestations. And all that is really needed is one solution.
In Communion // Healing the Split, we are going to take this notion out for a test-drive. I won’t ask for your belief but will ask for your action. I won’t require for you agreement but will invite you to turn the volume up on your intuition.
What might be possible for you if all the splits, the blocks, the stuckness, the giving-up-and-eating-a-bag-of-doritos, could be healed through simple and delicious devotion to embodied offerings?
What if you didn’t need to address and grow through and fix all those aspects of yourself and your life, but rather just needed to practice a different relationship with time, space and energy?
Do you dare to be as powerful as you actually are, even when it’s uncomfortable?
Everything that you genuinely desire is so much closer than you think. It is here and now. Those goals you think you need a month, a year, ten years to accomplish can happen now. The ceremony isn’t about incantations that bring your healing closer and faster. It’s a process of clearing the tumbleweeds of false information from the landscape of your being, so that you can see and feel more than your past.
I have one space left in Communion // Healing the Split. If you are ready to dive deep into non-linear healing and creation, join us. If you are tired of playing by the rules and having little to show for it, join us. If you want a strong, loving container to practice being as powerful as you are, join us.