Thanks little cabin

March 13, 2011 § 2 Comments

I lay in the darkness listening to rain, thinking about a big wave that’s said to be travelling all the way from Japan to the shores around here.  Suddenly, Japan doesn’t seem so far away, no longer just a point of reference on a map, but something alive and real across the ocean, something essential, like a heartbeat.

It’s my last week here in this little cabin. I lay in the darkness, a half-moon is covered by an overcast night sky, but a few minutes after I turn off the lights, lying in the total blackness, a glow illuminates the windows and skylight.

I am not alone.  I know, for example, that in this moment, right now, there is a little brown bunny who lives under the cabin. I saw her yesterday, soft and swift, darting through the woodpile and into the darkness of the crawlspace.  There’s a family of sparrows huddled into the rafters above my bed, I hear them coming home to nest at dusk, then, many hours later, I hear their ruffling feathers at dawn, taking flight into the light of the morning.  A spider spins her winter web in a cozy corner of the cedar siding.  I hear a heron who lives on this beach call out in the darkness, in the middle of the night, loud and prehistoric, from wherever she is nesting.

We’re in the darkness. We’re listening to the waves.  And tonight, I take none of it for granted.  Somehow, by some miracle beyond our understanding, we share this life.

We share this lifetime.

Each with our own knowledge and habits and preferences, we share this little cabin.  We listen, in the darkness to these waves, and by an almost imperceptible glow of a hiding half-moon, we listen to the rain.

Suddenly, I feel as close to the bunny snuggled under the cabin as I’ve felt to anything.  We share this sweet and gentle darkness, each with our own concerns.  Each alone, but in the strangest way, together.  We share a solitude without loneliness.  We’ve acknowledged each other before on the driveway.  Like indifferent acquaintances brushing shoulders in the grocery store isles, we’ve barely said hello.  But tonight, for some reason, we’re very close. I think about her innocent desire just to survive and be happy here, to find some warmth and shelter, under this cabin.  Her simple and noble wishes to stay safe and clean and to be organised, to find food that tastes good and water that is cold and fresh.  Little bunny, we not only share a cabin and a lifetime, we share these common impulses.

It seems that every year for the past two years, around this time in March, I’m sent some kind of miraculous gift. Last year, I found a goddess statue buried in the mud at the beach.   This year, I saw a perfect rainbow stretched right across the bay.  We’ve called this Rainbow beach for years, and now I know why. Perhaps a sign the hardest months of winter are over.  Perhaps a simple reminder that life is precious.

I know that there are moments when you question who you are and that doubts seem overwhelming until you wish upon a star. You’ve forgotten why you’ve come, that there was an ancient call. You’ve covered up the memories that you’re here to nurture all. So I’m here as a reminder to help light the way, to reignite the truth within and this is what I say: You’re a lady, you’re a princess, you’re a goddess, you’re a queen, you’re the feminine expression of that which can’t be seen. You’re the answer to the question, How must love be revealed? You’re the vision of a world that is begging to be healed. You’re the beauty you’re the grace, you’re the lover, you’re the light. You’re the form of wholeness manifest revealing day and night. You’re the answer to the question: How must love be revealed? You’re the vision of a world that is begging to be healed. And I know that there are times when you want to lead the way, to peace in your surroundings otherwise you cannot stay. You’re remembering there’s a promise to make a difference in this life. The inner you is screaming it is time to release strife. So I’m here as a reminder to help light the way, to reignite the truth within and this is what I say: You’re a mother, you’re a daughter, you’re a wife, you’re a team, you’re the feminine expression of that which can’t be seen. You’re the answer to the question, How must love be revealed? You’re the vision of a world that is begging to be healed. You’re the leader, you’re the guide, you’re the healer, you’re the way, you’re the form of wholeness manifest, turning night into day. You’re the answer to the question How must love be revealed? You’re the vision of a world that is begging to be healed. So take the time to listen to the spirit that you are and open to the vision that you are a shining star. You must remember why you’ve come. Awaken that ancient call, open to the memory that you’re here to nurture all. Open to the memory that you’re here to nurture all. Remember who you are. Remember who you are”

-Cynthia James

Advertisements

§ 2 Responses to Thanks little cabin

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Thanks little cabin at Safran Films.

meta

%d bloggers like this: