Remember - a message from the Swell

Thursday 7/1

I have had enough of the bugs and heat. The big cottonwood tree at the entrance to my haven has a large branch I believe will be more shaded than my current spot. Further from the creek there should also be less pests wanting dinner from my skin. I gather my pillow and the blue fabric of my cocoon and begin the trek up the road. Under the brim of my sun hat I see them: intruders.

A couple of 4-wheelers lurk unwelcomed around my spot. I am not interested in interacting with human creatures and veer right toward the creek. They must find the appearance of a strange, elusive creature carrying yards of blue fabric around the desert rather puzzling.

A big tree with a thick low branch draws me in. As I walk closer to hang the cocoon a long beautiful silvery snake extends his head then ducks away, more threatening when invisible. I keep walking.

Finally, I find a spot on the ground to rest in the shade. As I extend my limbs, my torso becomes heavy on the earth and I feel the warm support of her holding. Wind brushes over me on her way down canyon, a light caress. Drawing my left hand to my heart I feel the steady rhythm of my pulse while my right searches for the same in the earth. “You have to start with the surface,” she says. I try to push it. No luck. I give in to her, she has more practice and eventually wins. I want to be invited in so I follow. With each breath I explore a new dimension. Lizards scurrying around dry leaves and wind blowing through the brush fade into the heat of the day, still soaring in the shade. The gurgle of the creek grows more palpable as I feel the ridges of dirt on my skin. Breathing, resting deeper I find a cool layer of earth underneath – dark and quiet. Peace envelops my heart as I feel the fluids roam their trails. Traveling deeper, in the stillness of that depth I find it: the same rhythmic pulsing as my own heart beat. In unison with mine! "Remember,” she whispers, “you are home. Remember.” I imagine all the oils to be a part of the lubricating pulse, “remember.”