I’m trying to find my words today. They keep slipping away. Just when I think I know what wants to come out its slips away again. Today I drifted into the back yard to watch a large group of monkeys pass through. They look at me and try to make themselves bigger. They think I pose a threat. Those silly babies. They have moved on but now the Agouti is here and he so sweet with those little hands and mouth. He is eating the seeds that have dropped from the bird feeder.
The birds are always here moving around drinking the sugar-water or sipping from the flowers. They are so fragile and delicate. Everything has really come to life now that the rains are here. The yard is lush and green again and the flowers are so happy they are shooting toward the sky as fast as they can.
As all of this is happening around me I think to myself it means something to be in this moment. However, when I put it in writing it seems like mindless babble. Who cares about what I am seeing as I sit in this jungle. Well, I really don’t know, but I guess I do and that is what counts to me.
I let my mind wander to years back when I was in the Balearic Islands kicking a soccer ball through an ancient village on Mallorca. As I looked up into the tight alleyways and stone laden streets, I saw the laundry hanging from the windows. The sun was bright there and all of the old buildings were a light sand color. The clothes looked like artwork as they blew from side to side try to get dry.
The contrast from that memory to this mornings experience is incredible. Where there is so much color and vibrant wildlife here, there was none of that there. Though the life in the people far surpassed what the people are made of here.
The vibration of the old souls on that little island made life worth experiencing. Here the vibration is much lower. I count on the wild life to replace the energy the locals can’t give. Now isn’t that strange? There is an odd balance but it’s not what everyone would normally think that makes that balance. It’s not only humans that create the balance but the four-legged creatures or the two-winged beauties that have been placed here to make this part of the world so alive. An earths bounty of wildly living souls.
There on Mallorca, on the dusty streets, it was a simple joy. Kicking a ball and knowing the distance to their family was not distant at all. The safe and secure boundaries of those streets gave them freedom. Quiet with laughter and conversation. Here there are not whispers but screams and noises that make no sense. It’s a contrast that I find interesting.
I feel blessed to have been there in that moment so many years ago, to kick a ball through the streets on a small ancient island in the middle of nowhere. Here I feel blessed but not in the same way. I feel like I am here to bring something different to this part of the world, and that is a spark of light. A higher vibration.
Yes, I said it. It’s ok to say out loud I am an astute old soul. This place needs people like me to make it shine and help it grow. Not in a religious sort of churchy way, but a spiritual soulful way. The fact that I can acknowledge what I bring to this place itself says so much.
I am finding my words today but I am having to close my eyes and really search for them. They are hiding from me. I close my eyes and I look back to that uneven street where I played so lighthearted, then I blink and look forward to what could possibly be next.