“Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
~ Anais Nin
There it is tucked deep within the forest. A big, rough-hewn cabin. The air heady with the clean smell of aged wood intermingling with the spike of smoky pine and the savory contents of a brimming pot of thick, spicy soup. A fireplace fills the room with crackling layers of kindling. Shadowy sparks and flames cast a dance of light and dark images on the walls, high-beamed ceilings, and upon the faces of those gathered within the snug confines.
Panning from floor to the comforter-filled loft high above, one can see clusters of people everywhere. They are sitting on large woven rugs, the colors of muted hues hidden by those huddled together. There are people in every corner, in room-after-room, upstairs and down. Scrunched into pillow-packed rocking chairs and stuffed couches and generous colorful beanbags. The sounds of laughter and whispers weave in and out, peaking from high guffaws to inaudible murmurs – like lovers in the night.
“This is my latest painting…” “Let me read you a poem…” “I have a song I want you to hear…”
Is that a piano being played in the far corner? What is that other sound? A lute? A guitar? A saxophone? Someone is singing an aria from an opera. Another shows blueprints of a house she is building. Or is it a city? A few are dancing to the music, choreographing new works, stretching and limbering their bodies. Some are grooming and playing with their pets – dogs and cats bound through the layers of friendliness, as hands scratch and play with them as they domino from one group to the next. A bird flies down from a beam and lands calmly on an old man’s head as all listen to the storyteller weave his word magic.
Each face, mannerism, voice, entity so distinct—skin, stance, age,—all as varied as their cultures, their languages. Chocolate brown eyes with a scar snaking around one brow. Another with a high, lilting laugh. Yet another resounding with a booming voice and a giant’s girth and height; his impassioned words made far more emphatic by slamming a fist into his palm. Another with a gentle touch, so soothing, so caring. Everywhere you can see and hear the symphony of engaging sights and sounds. The thick accent that beckons one to a faraway town. The deep dimples book-ending a never-ending smile. So many faces. All so magnetic. You can’t help smiling back. The long, expressive fingers. The gaping front teeth. The hunched-over walk. The rotund body with curl-into arms. The ice-blue stare. The sarcastic taunting – always with hand on hips. The curly brown hair and shy boyish smile, his dog never leaving his side. Snippets of conversation, words that float in the air and echo deep within…
“Be strong…” “I don’t need that…” “Gabriel…” “You are fine the way you are…” “Life is great…” “I didn’t want to hurt…” “It’s so good to see you again…”
They are friends, lovers, family, old and young, all races – a rainbow of beings deeply comfortable in this timeless place and space. I know them. All are teachers and students of each other and me. They are as unique as snowflakes and fingerprints, but they are all somehow connected to me and to each other by an almost invisible, still palpably seen and felt web of light.
Yet within it, something interrupts. Names are called at separate intervals. Is it minute-by-minute or day-by-day? Or is it lifetimes? It is hard to tell. But eventually each name is called. “I must go now…” The group rises and embraces the one about to leave. Tears and unspoken words melt in the fierce hugs and hand grasps. And then, as strongly as their presence has resonated within the cabin gathering, they are gone…
Where did they go? Were they being called to their death? Or…?
It was at that point that I awakened from the dream that gave me this image. It has haunted me for years. Only now do I understand its meaning. The answer has unfolded itself in layers – a rose of time, petal-by-petal. We are only ready to see the answers when we have truly cleared the debris of our paths. The Ego. The Fear. The Blindness that stops us from recognizing the simple truth. Are we alone on this journey called Life? The answer is right in front of us. Look. Listen. Reach. Touch. Embrace….
For what I have discovered on my journey—and continue to realize every moment is that those who show up in my life now and give my heart a jump of recognition are not just accidental encounters
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” “Have we met before?” “Why do you look so familiar to me?” “How did you know I was going to say that?” “That was exactly what I was hoping for. How did you know?” “If you hadn’t shown up when you did I don’t know what I would do…” “Can I give you a hug?” “May I help you?” “You can do this by yourself. You don’t need my help.” “I love you.”
I now know these renewed friends—of all ages—gifting my life as those who were re-born into this lifetime wending their way back to me and each other. The film-makers. And dancers. The healers. The rescuers. The photographers and sculptors. The homeless tent lady. The real estate agent. The hilarious team of banquet servers. The visionaries. The teachers and the students. The writers and readers. The eccentric neighbors. The wise loan officer who strengthened my soul by refusing my loan. The myriad musicians. The ancient elephant who shared my pain—and the troop of animal-lovers who shoveled along beside me. The adventurers. The children and grandchildren who promised never to leave—and to find me again. Those who make me laugh endlessly. And cry just as copiously. The brave survivors. The nature-lovers. The antique dealers. The feng shui and tai chi masters.The crafters and cooks. The designers. The peacemakers. The actors and artists. The car mechanic. The stoners and rock climbers. The packs of pets who continue to fill my life with their preciousness—one replacing the next in a chain link from here to the rainbow bridge. The radio man who wanted to unite the world. And that curly-haired man with his spotted dog forever by his side—and mine. On and on these beings show up and I’ve learned not to doubt their place on my path.
We are meant to find each other now, reconnect, and eventually gather together within that cozy abode in another place beyond this earthly plane when it’s our time to go back. At least that’s what I believe. It gives me comfort feeling that this is so.
Of course I know and love them all. They are The Cabin People.
Thank you for showing up, my friends. Happy Thanksgiving!
