I read a book a while back aptly called ‘The Convoluted Universe’ written by a past life regression therapist named Dolores Claiborne who reports to have taken people back to all manner of adventurous lives, both here on earth, and on other planets and realms at the far reaches of the universe. She claims to have met folks who died on the titanic, others who were the teachers of Jesus, and still others who, in previous incarnations, would traverse space and time. Amidst all of this intrigue there was one type of past life I found most fascinating of all – the life of rocks. Yep, that’s right, rocks! And not just rocks, but trees, bodies of water, stars or any inanimate thing you can imagine. In her book she recounts many case studies of clients who lived lives as stones, or the weather, or even once, a robot.
So I’m sitting in my Shangri-La (that’s what I’ve named my cozy outdoor patio) today resting from a long yesterday at an art, glass and marijuana exhibition called Chalice Festival. I’m smoking a freshly rolled joint of some amazing bud I picked up there and quieting my mind. As the ash grows long on the end of my smoking J I absent-mindedly tap it off on the tip of a dead flower stalk leaning toward me. I tried to wipe the ash off right after and it just smudged. The plant is going to be like that forever now, I thought to myself, and there is nothing it can do about it. Then I remember that book where people have been rocks and flowers in past lives and I’m thinking that must have been quite a challenge. Does this flower stalk have a soul in there with an opinion about what I just did? Does it feel helpless to be the master of its own destiny? If circumstance decides to smudge you, you can’t even wipe it off. As with a rock pin-balling its way down a riverbed, you have no choice but to go with the flow, to surrender. I imagine myself picking up a rock I notice nearby and throwing it; wondering what the rock would be thinking? Would it be horrified, helpless and scared as it careens through the air toward its destiny on the other side of the yard? Or would it be blessed? Would that rock be grateful to have been chosen, to have been picked up at all, and sent, by destiny, to parts unknown?
I realize what I am to the rock is what the Universe is to me, it is fractal. I, and the winds and the river are destiny in the making for the rocks. Their destiny is shaped by our forces. When they go with with the flow, castles are built and art is made. The same is true for us, when we yield to the ever-communicating energy of the universe, when we just let go and go with the flow, our castle is built and our happiness is found there. It is a blessing to realize you are not in control of anything but your own reaction to life. So just enjoy what comes, go with the flow. When we start to react differently our whole reality will start to act differently in return. Maybe it’s just me, but I think that rocks!