Saturday, August 21, 2010

"Everybody Needs a Rock"

"Everybody Needs a ROCK", the name of a children's book that one of my yoga students gave to me recently, begins like this:

a Rock.

I'm sorry for kids
who don't have
a rock
for a friend.

I'm sorry for kids
who only have

That's why
I'm giving them
my own

for finding

any rock.
I mean
that you find
and keep
as long as
you can--

I have shared my life over the past 12 years with just such a rock. I met him first, when the birth of my son required a complete sacrifice of my numbed out psyche; in order to raise my new boy in a safe, nurturing way. It was my first experience, with the power of the mama bear inside me, that would require a profound "shedding" in order to stand as my son's mother--awake and fully present...a living woman, for the first time.

The journey, that is as instinctual as a mama bear awakening in spring from a long hibernation, brought me to a place where I first stumbled onto my rock. Let's call him...Rex Kocherhans. A lovely rock, solid, steady, yet shockingly soulful, warm too--like he's been basking in the light for a very long time...this is a rock that looks back at you! My response to our initial meeting was: "there you are!" (it was like meeting my twin for the first time).

We spent three years together, my rock and I, helping my mama bear eyes come out of the cave, adjust to the light, and find the deep soothing timbre of my true voice...he was such a good rock... Eventually though, a nudging had stirred deep inside both him and me, that told us it was time to set my rock down on this path, yet we always knew we would cross it again, in a different light and season.

Several years later I found myself placed right next to my rock again. It was a such a good fit, this rock in the palm of my hand, as he welcomed me over the threshold of his cave, into a whole other kind of light. One that shined out from us together, as he would help people (the ways he helped me), find healing of the mind; the gentle tap of his marker on the white board, through my wall. I loved the sound of his muffled voice helping them awaken to their truth as we did our work side by side...

On my side of the wall, in a new kind of cave, I shared with my rock, I would help some of those same people, to awaken their body more fully to it's measure... He helped the mind and spirit/I helped the body and soul...Between the two of us, we made a great rock. I loved it so very much!

Most mornings my rock would stomp toward me, with such a great rocky grin from ear to ear, and envelope me in his husky bear squeeze. This rock was so very grounding, and each time he did this, he made every cell of my body smile from ear to ear right back at him...

So my sweet baby boy had opened my eyes, and set me on the path where I stumbled upon this lovely rock, who helped me adjust to the light...And now, even though my rock has recently crossed over onto a whole other kind of path, where I can't quite see him the same as before, I am humbled, in such a sacred way, by just how grounding his presence with me still is; just as husky, just as soft, just as warm and kind, just as loving, staring back at me with new eyes of his own this time... And as I reflect on my lovely rock, I love how clear it has become that my sweet baby boy, and my big husky rock, both had a plan for me on the path before this one, and that they just may have planned this out together a very, very, long time ago.

So tonight, I thank the Savior who gets this whole thing, in ways we can't always see on our path, but is kind enough to place all sorts of rocks on our way. Thank you again, my still so solid, Eternally lovely, BELOVED ROCK.