Learning to walk on water looks like stepping boldly onto the surface of the water not caring more if you will be submerged below the depths or if you will be held up by the clear glassy surface that extends itself outward inviting you to take a step in a new direction. A step into the unknown, buoyed by surrender and humility. A step into the next phase of consciousness that whispers of infinite possibilities incomprehensible to the rational mind. Arising from the water drenched and laughing, you are welcomed into a new kind of home that is not constructed of walls and a ceiling shielding you from the elements but instead is a receptive membrane that allows the elements to show your body where it is so that it can adapt to what is real right around you. From this place, you are not cold as you emerge on the bank soaking from your daring step forward but instead rejuvenated as if baptized in the great wellspring itself. The cool rain soothes you and the wind pushes you gently forward on your path. This step off the bank sings of a new kind of “yes” to all that has been waiting dormant within you for so long. This step is taken with reason no longer holding dominant reign over your mind, replaced instead by a fluid shape-shifting wisdom that weaves its way playfully throughout your consciousness, daring you to try things that only the curious child alight in your heart might try.
Learning to walk on water is letting the grief that wallows deep within you for all that will be lost to time flow through you like thunder rolling across the landscape of your knowing, leaving you powerless but to kneel down humbly before the setting sun and cry out for the beauty that can only be grasped in its fullness as it flitters between your outstretched fingers gone too soon to the setting sun. This kneeling down and sobbing is the only worthy honoring of the transient impermanence that your corporal flesh knows all too well as the fate it too will reach as it hurdles through time. Your grief a sacrament to mortal life itself being known, if only fleetingly, through your primal acceptance of the passing of time within and through your immediate experience as it appears in this crystallized moment in which you find yourself with tears pouring down your face, enthralled by the encroaching darkness.
Learning to walk on water is felt in the tender, daring love that unites us across unseen realms and uplifts us to higher versions of ourselves, from which vantage point we have the grace to let one another roam freely as we were meant to be. To love so wildly that only freedom can arise as the fruits of our sacred bond. To honor our partnership so fully that time and space apart is welcomed as a perfect practice ground for rebuilding that which has been neglected and renewing that which we’ve allowed to become too familiar within and between us. Afloat a rowboat in a marshy southern wonderland, the edges of our comings and goings radiate through us into magical possibilities, whispering of the gift that has been bestowed to us for safekeeping. We are asked to trust the winds to take us where we need to be, and if so willing, to bring us back together again clearer and stronger and more capable than ever before of building what is our birthright to build alongside one another.
Learning to walk on water is untangling the knots in my mind through whistling strands of light through my energetic field. It is using my index finger intuitively like a knife to cut through to the core of your entrapment, lodged tonight in your solar plexus where the demons that still cling onto you from the inside desperately try to squelch the life and light that you are learning to wield with such dexterity that it burns through the fear that keeps them alive in your being and therefore makes your mind and body an increasingly inhospitable home for them who breed in the shadowlands of fear and doubt. Learning to walk on water is dancing to the songs of the past winter as they weave their way through our limbs and express themselves vibrationally through our twirling legs and outstretched hands, our bodies crawling on the floor, laughing into each other’s open minds, and then sit in deep stillness across the quiet room.
It is time to learn to walk on water! For it is time to take up the reigns of our own lives and plant the only seeds that can sustain a new world. The planets have given their cosmic blessing and the winds have blown the tidings through the open windows of our souls. And so the only thing left to do is to build what is ready to be built, one stone at a time, our minds always tuned toward the frequency of freedom and our hearts always replenished by the warm, sweet love of belonging.
There have been doubts so large and monstrous that we have stumbled. And yes, these doubts will again raise their heads from the shadows of our minds and the deep dark closets of the collective forgetting. And yet, the doorway to the old ways has been closed, and so there is no such thing as turning back now. Only onward exists and only upward beckons. This will mean many changes and yet listen to the one who dwells within you, and hear her stoic resolve as she tells you that she is ready. Feel his timid eagerness as he whispers that he has never been more willing for anything in his young life.
“We’ve been training for this for so long,” we laugh, dancing naked in our nest, ready at last to fly. We will surely fall, as there is no other way to learn to fly but falling has never tasted so sweet as it does when it is so natural that it is all your body knows how to do. See how this readiness to take flight wills itself outward through your flesh as the living invitation you have been waiting for for so long. Did you not predict that the invitation would arise from within? As an answer to a prayer that only you could hear yourself whisper, alone at night in the confines of your darkness. Praise the all-hearing ears that live within you, hearing and heeding your stillest call.
And yes, there is surely grief in this new beginning, for in it rests a recognition of the ending of a different time that was as familiar as your mother’s touch but now feels suddenly outgrown. There is pain in growing up and finding your own way forward. But it is time to alchemize our own balms for the wounds we’ve held so closely. It is time to soothe our own fears and slay our own dragons. So let the tears well up and pour out of you as a testament themselves to the changing tides. Like messengers from a land so sacred it remains unseen, these tears herald of what is breaking and reforming within you. The old shell that kept you “you” shattering open as the only way it could to make more space for the wider and fuller depth of your emergent self. Glistening as if newborn, you are fresh and free now. You are wild and reckless now, introduced to a land that has no rules that apply to your unique unbridled expression except those universal laws of nature that bind the cosmos to itself as it propels always forward in perfect infinite order.
The trick with learning how to walk on water is to find security in caring not if you will be submerged into unknown depths or if you will stand supported above all reason. It is the step itself where the learning resides. You are learning, and so at first you will likely fall through the surface of your knowing. The rushing water that embraces you is a beacon itself of your acceptance within the family of all things. Take comfort in the fact that each step you take boldly across the boundary of the known into the boundaryless unknown is what itself builds the very stability of which you seek. For you yourself are the living bridge between the seen and the unseen realms, and so with each step you take across this abyss of knowing, you are becoming that which you presently cannot see but with time will become the very foundation from which you will stand and build all thing. Here, then, is a call for all wise Fools – come forth from the wilds and step boldly with us toward all that awaits to be illumined from the depths of your fearless hearts! The time is now and the first step is as clear as the sunlight dancing upon the water of your knowing.