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The Dakini Land Diaries 9The Dakini Land Diaries 9
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It was the Black Preacher who came. I hadn’t seen him in a long time. I am in a DC underground parking garage. He was wandering, staring off into the distance. He wouldn’t look at me directly, just gazed off into the horizon, searching for something … watching … he is waiting for Martin. I didn’t think he saw me as I approached. I was so glad to see him! He’s a tall man, dignified, yet rumpled in his dark gray suit with a white collared shirt that he wears every day. He has Einstein hair, Beethoven hair, rising straight from his scalp, shocked with gray. He is more gray than black. He is weary, but he is strong, patient, kind … I love him … my heart bursts … as I approach I pull a ten dollar bill, all the money that I have, from my wallet. I know that he is always collecting money. As I approach he says to me without looking at me, still gazing at the horizon, “I see you.” “How, are you? I haven’t seen you in a really long time. I’m living in Seattle now.” He gently takes the bill from my hand and slips it into his coat pocket. He stands by me for a moment, we are aligned shoulder-to-shoulder but facing opposite directions … yin and yang … tall, short … black, white … male, female … it doesn’t matter in which direction we face … our hearts always find one another. He is staring off. We are quiet. Then he says, “You are one of God’s better creatures.” This breaks my heart, I think of Gardner and start to cry. “You are too,” I say. A slow soft smile spreads across his radiant face … he continues his slow wandering … he is searching for Martin. I wake sobbing hot tears staining twisted sheets.
My truth feels emotionally manipulative to him some how … patterns that don’t belong to me … experiences with others blind him … keep him chained behind The Wall. Moments in the Stillness, when I am centered in my breath, I can sometimes feel him struggling to get through … gasping for breath through thick rubbery latex... I can see his face … writhing against the elastic barrier … fighting to break through. This is his fight. There is nothing that I can do but own my heart’s truth … breathe from my heart’s center … say my prayers.
It’s snowing … fat soft lacy swan feathers float peacefully to earth … it is very beautiful … silent … a blanket of purity and warmth. It mirrors how I feel … pure beauty in my heart. I tried to touch him … to communicate my feeling. I didn’t do it the way that he needed … I didn’t know how. I didn’t touch him in a way that he could feel … smell … See … Hear … taste … I tried to let him know that I mean him no harm. All the patterns erupted … volcanic eruptions. All the patterns … all the pain … waves of it coming from the Cunis Cross. Betrayal. Scalding pain … searing emotional pain … poisonous bleeding razor wire. And all the ones invested in keeping him behind The Rubber Wall … I felt them too … the betrayers … it serves them … if that is where he stays. I know The Wall … The Padded Cell … The Rubber Room … the one that promises safety … a prophylactic that binds and suffocates your heart in its black oppressive latex heresy.
He hurt me more than I could ever have imagined. The shock made my world stand still. I found freedom in the stillness, a freedom that I have never felt before. I just keep feeling …crystal purity … dead center. I am the numinous center of my heart. My love is strong and true. I just keep breathing. My body is shifting … I can feel it deep … its cellular now … vibrating, warm, tingling. I am changing deep inside, with every breath. Beauty infuses me … I have never felt this beautiful before. This is a delicate spring … I have a dream … this is my White Spring … my heart’s slow bloom … my body’s full blush. Just breathe.
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