Facing my shadow

I understand that for some, the following story may be difficult to read. Perhaps, it's the fact that I call the man, Jesus. Maybe it's my interpretation of our exchange. 

Regardless, I have found myself convicted through this (covid-19) experience.  I've had to sit with the discomfort and take personal responsibility for the ways I've contributed, checked-out and over-consumed. It's felt akin to facing my shadow. 

I know it's not everyones lesson, but for me, this is the challenge and opportunity I'm being gifted: 


To bring my unconscious actions and pain to the forefront of my awareness, so they too, can be acknowledge, healed and hopefully, released. 


In this together, every step of the journey
Kailey

—//

Years back, I wrote an essay now included in my memoir,  “Seeking Grace.” 

It was about a man I met at the beach, whom I believed to have been Jesus. 

It was a chance encounter; a mystical miracle. 

I now affectionately call that beach my, “Jesus Beach.” 

Yesterday, five years later, I believe I met that man again. 

This time, it was on the shores of a lake, not ten minutes from the former location. 

Not surprisingly, this man was fishing off a bouldered cliff side, settled just below a public view point. 

In plane sight, yet hidden to most eyes. 

You’d need to stop to see him, and truly take in the view. 

Which is exactly what we were doing. 

This viewpoint resides at a dead end and you know this upon approach. 

You must intentionally choose to part the main path, which circles the exterior of the lake.

On any other day, we likely wouldn’t have taken it. 

 

But in the midst of this pandemic, we had nothing better to do. 

In fact, this was our joy and leisure for the day.

Soon after, we’d be holed back up at home again, so we took the dead end path.

It was our girl who spotted the man fishing first. She wanted to see him. 

“Can we walk down the hillside and watch, mom?”

Navigating the bouldered edge, we found a spot.

And for a long while we just observed. Minimal words were exchanged. 

Until finally, missy spotted his line bobbing and called it right. He’d caught a fish. 

After reeling it in, he shared with us that she had swallowed his entire hook. 

So hungry and desperate, the fish took not just the bait, but the jagged barb into her stomach. 

"It may rip her insides to dislodge."  he said. 

It was then I noticed the mans accent.

Russian? European? Middle Eastern? 

I remember asking the same question back then - with the man at my Jesus Beach.   

He somehow managed to free the fish without harm. 

“Her insides are clean. No damage.” He declared, showing us proof. 
 

Two hooks had been inside her, though. One, his and the other from another fisherman. 
 

“She’s been swimming with this in her stomach all along.  This fake bait isn’t mine.” 

He seemed compassionate and gentle with his catch.

Soon after, we carried on. 
We thanked him for letting us observe and sharing in face-to-face conversation.

He simply smiled. 
And it wasn’t until the next morning, that I gave our exchange another thought. 
 

Like the last time, it came in a flash....
the notion that this man may just be The Man, my beloved Yeshua, coming to me with a lesson. 

The last time, he came to teach me about the inevitability of discomfort and learning to embrace it. 

My life, at the time, was in upheaval and I was just restarting my yoga practice, “learning to balance on one leg”, as he said. 

He told me then, it was good for me and that I’d soon find rest in wobbly postures.

And he was right. 

What is it he's saying now? 

My life is no longer in upheaval - this time it’s the world.

Something about the fish and the hook lodged inside her stomach. 

Hungry. Desperate. Were his words. 

Was he suggesting our world’s consuming to our demise? 
Food. Wealth. Technology. Material Goods. 

And then there was the reference to setting her free and how removing the hook could cause great pain, if he didn't do it properly.

Is this what's happening on earth? 
Through isolation, stillness, and bare-bone basic living. 

 

We’re having our insides cleaned and the blocks to health removed. 

.... The health of a nation and the entire planet in which we live. 

While we fear the process and the outcome, I have faith in The Great Orchestrator. 

The fisherman freeing and cleaning us. 

Compassionate, gentle, and patient in the process. 

I trust we will emerge freer and untethered from our insatiable hunger. 

The question is: will we have learnt the lessons?