Posted at 09:27h
in
God,
Prayer,
Spirituality
by ckrizik
I place my anxiety and worry on the proverbial altar. There among the remnants of my past and devotional illusions I place my anxiety and worry to be tended by God. I hand my concerns over to the spirit of wisdom, strength and patience that I am not, at present, able to feel. There, on my imagined altar, among the fresh cut roses and gifts given to me with love, I place the anxiety and worry that impairs my ability to be fully who I am.
For those among you who think this is all a bunch of hooey, I have only one thing to say — and this I know for sure — that there is more to life than meets the eye. There is more than we experience in our five senses, more than we can see, hear, smell, touch or taste. There is another dimension, another reality that is, in fact, grander and more significant that anything in our petty physical world.
Yes, there is more than meets eye.
There —right beyond the obvious (the black of this keyboard, the smells of morning, the sound of passing cars) beyond all the things in life that seem tactile and irrefutable — is where Life lives. Beyond the three dimensional manifestation of our labors, right there on the other side, around the corner, underneath, in between, behind and right in front of us are the formless qualities we most crave.
After all the spiritual and emotional work I've done these last few weeks, I've earned the right to drop a Valium. I did just that last night and I don’t regret it a bit. The Surgery Center awaits.
For those of us still reliant (if judiciously) on Western medicine, living in Santa Cruz can be tough. After all, this is ground zero for woo woo-ness. I suspect there are more alternative health care providers in Santa Cruz per square mile than almost anywhere else. A masseuse is probably living next door. Acupuncturists? A dime a dozen. There’s a chiropractor on every corner, not to mention the homeopathic doctors, hypnotherapists, naturopaths, craniosacral therapists, reiki energy healers, and psychics lurking behind every tree.
It’s easy to laugh. The flowing, formless Indian print skirts
