The Narrow Path

I would never have guessed that I would start my new blog on one of my most down days in the last seven months. In my last blog, nightwalkersjourney.blogspot.com, I usually wrote after I had had some kind of emotional breakthrough. The blog would call to me, loudly, and I would obey. Tonight, it beckons as well, but the timing is reversed. It does seem, however, rather apropos considering the situation in our country and the world at large in 2020 with the corona virus, civil unrest, schools opening in the midst of a pandemic, and the elections looming just around the corner, and that’s just at the top of the news. I would expect that a lot of people are feeling a bit down as we transition into this new way of life.

I have felt tremendous emotions in the depths of my chest for months now, and I have begun to realize that it is grief. It is old grief brought about by the many changes I have had to make in the last six years. It is new grief of the daily loss I see in the news of people suffering and of our planet hurting. It is personal grief as I realize how much I have slowed down in my own spiritual growth the last couple of years, and it is future grief as I prepare myself for the inevitable loss of loved ones and a loss of a certain life style as we all adjust to so many needed changes. This might sound depressing, but without this grief, we simply cannot move forward. You see, grief is the action that needs to happen to take us into our new beings and into our new lives. Grief is a huge array of emotions that help us move into healing. I wish it felt better, but it never does. Most people will do anything to avoid it so they don’t have to hurt, but it is in this hurting where we can find space to feel, to vent, and to release. There is no set time for grief to come to completion as many people mistakenly believe. Every grief is different and will gradually lessen in it’s own time. It has a bad reputation because of its deep pain, and I know that in my past, I have wanted to rush through it and wanted that for others as well. I have learned and experienced, however, that with each new step of letting go in this process, there is another door waiting to be opened. It always happens. We never grieve forever; it just feels that way some days. These doors need to open in order to step onto the narrowing path.

I was hiking in the White Mountains of eastern Arizona recently, and as I walked, I took notice of the footpaths. It was rainy and chilly but quite beautiful. I started out on the wet, black asphalt. This quickly turned into a dirt trail near the trail head that could have fit four people across. Eventually this narrowed down to a two abreast wide trail, and as I made the turn into the most glorious pine bordered meadow split by a small babbling river, the trail narrowed down to a single person path. It was gorgeous. It was so timely because I had just written a poem using the metaphor of walking paths and our spiritual paths. The further along we go, the spiritual path gets narrower and narrower, and although this sounds difficult and lonely, it actually becomes the only reality there is. We all, despite our fears, are on our own single paths, and the more we let go of clinging to the idea of hiking en masse through life, needing everyone around us to support our every move, the more we can look into our deepest selves to guide our way, to see the light of true awareness, and when ready and when asked, help brighten the way for others. As we all walk to find this narrow path, we are all joining together as One Sacred Star. On this narrow path, we listen more closely to our inner voices that guide us toward a more authentic life.

In creating One Sacred Star, I am committing myself to this narrow path and am willing to help comfort and gently guide others to find it as well. Art, music, drum circles, meditation, prayer, and the real world of nature are simply my tool kit. They have helped me express my psyche, my spirit, my inner voice, whatever you want to call it, time and time again, through a myriad of transitions. I am committing myself to step on this narrow path and walk it with gratitude and courage. I hope you will join me.

The Narrow Path

Leaning heavily on the weathered trail marker,

I look on with excitement and admitted fatigue.

Behind me, a wider path meant for two or three,

before that, a dirt road,

and before that,

a stretch of black tarmac.

I now look ahead onto a single path,

only room for one.

I take a step on nature’s balance beam

and flail awkwardly with this new way of being.

At times, I use a staff, and at others,

I simply fall down.

But with practice, my movements grow steady,

and a calm sanity begins to shine

if only for a moment,

if only through the cracks of my continuing facade.

I have only walked a few inches

on this proverbial path,

but it feels like miles

and miles

and miles.

I only have to take one step to know

that this Narrow Path is the real deal.

It is the path to freedom within myself.

There is no crowd waiting to accompany me

as I gather my gear.

It is upstream all the way.

i carry my own bags of trials

and tribulations.

No Sherpa watches my every move

to ease or comfort.

The collective is way behind

in the distance…

off kilter,

off balance.

I hear their voices beckon.

The insanity of the social highway,

life’s magnetic draw.

But I recognize this insanity

in my body…

the tension,

anxiety,

and pain.

I take another tender step

feeling each pebble beneath my feet,

wearing soft leather soles

to gently ease into this tender

and sometimes rocky path

yet not be harmed,

too much…

just aware,

and awake.

Each step on each day

in each moment,

recommitting to the mystery

of the Narrow Path.

Toni Austin-Allen