MY SECOND, AND LAST, FULL day at the hermitage began much,
much later than the first one. I’m not sure what time I had fallen asleep the
night before, but it was late, and I vowed not to get out of bed one damn
second before my body’s adrenaline told me I should. Still, I was shocked to
see it was past noon when I finally gave one last stretch and walked over to my
phone. No matter. I turned the coffee on and began journaling.
The day was spent much the same as the first one, minus my
time with Ann Jackson. I read, I wrote, I walked through the trees around
Prairiewoods. I baked another frozen meal and then I decided to head over to
the Labyrinth. Maybe I would see my deer friends again.
I took it even slower than I had the first day. No deer this time, but I was in for another treat. No more than a quarter of the way in, I
felt something cold touch my nose. I looked up and there were a few big, fat,
wet snowflakes falling gently down from the sky. I walked even slower, trying
to match their rhythm. Within about ten minutes the snow was falling with some
momentum. When I got to the center of the labyrinth I knelt and I prayed. I
thanked God for this beautiful moment and I just let the snow keep falling on
me.
By the time I got back to the hermitage there was a layer of
snow sticking to the ground, and it was still coming down good. Before I
forgot, I texted Ann Jackson—she had offered to meet with me again before I
left the next morning if I wanted to. I had decided I did. We agreed to meet
again in her office at 10:00. Then I sat down in the recliner, sipping on a
glass of water and watching the snow fall as day slowly changed into night. It
was the sort of thing you normally might really want to share with someone, but
I was quite happy to be by myself.
The Chakra book sat peacefully to left. It ignored me and I
ignored it.
*********
I ARRIVED ON TIME FOR my meeting with Ann Jackson. She was
dressed much the same as before, which I suppose could be said for me as well.
We talked about how my two days had went. I told her that I had walked a lot,
journaled a lot, written a lot, put some of it on my blog.
“Would you mind if I read your blog?” she asked.
“Of course not. That’s what it’s there for,” I said. “Let me
write down the address for you.”
While I was writing down the address, she asked, “What have
you been reading?”
“Well,” I replied, “I’ve got this like thousand-page history
of Christianity that I’ve been working through, and I made some progress there.
Some devotional material.”
“And what about this?” she asked, holding up the book about
the Chakras in her left hand.
I smiled slightly. “I…looked at it.”
She smiled too. “Not your cup of tea?”
“No,” I said. “I appreciate you loaning it to me, but…no.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “It’s certainly not for everyone.
Anything else? Did you get to walk the Labyrinth?”
“Yes!” I said. “Twice. Once each day. Both days were incredible,
especially yesterday. I was out there, literally in the Labyrinth, when the
snow started falling. I just felt…so blessed. No one was around. It was just
me, the Labyrinth and the snow.”
“How beautiful,” she murmured. “Did you get anything out of
it? That was your second time—you said you went the first day, as well?”
“Oh my God,” I said. “The first day was incredible as well.
I’m in there walking the Labyrinth, and all of a sudden I was surrounded by,
like, four or five deer. One of them actually walked right up to me. Like five
feet away.”
“Really?” she said. “Mark, do you see what is happening? I
told you the first day, you have an energy. I could feel it. And that deer
could feel it too. You let go of your fear out there, and she felt one with
you. She could sense your…” she paused, “…your energy is greater than you give yourself credit for.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“In Christianity we call that the Holy Spirit. But it’s got
a name in just about every tradition,” she continued, and her eyes darted down
and to her left very quickly. “I feel, Mark, that you have a tremendous energy.
You just need to be patient. And keep praying. And stay open to that feeling,
that feeling the snow gave you, that feeling the deer gave you. That energy…that
connection.”
We continued like
that, and the hour flew by. We hugged again. She asked me to stay in touch, and
I said I would. I walked back to the hermitage and busied myself preparing my
things for departure. Sonia was on her way to pick me up.
**********
OF COURSE I TOLD SONIA all about it. The trees, the prairie,
the Labyrinth, the deer, the snow, the reading, the writing. And I was effusive
with praise for Ann Jackson—her warmth, her sincerity, her caring, her
simplicity, her perception.
“There was just one weird thing about her,” I told Sonia several
nights later in the kitchen. She was cooking and I was eating black olives, for
some goddamn reason. “She kept trying me to get into this thing about Chakras.”
“What in the hell is a Chakra?” Sonia asked.
“I don’t even know—something about seven energy centers in
the body and…”
I stopped. Something clicked. Or, more precisely, something
suddenly shot up into my consciousness from my subconscious. An energy force
field the size of a football field. Time in a hermitage slowing down and going
deeper. Energy emanating from the body. A deer so in connection with me that it
walked right up to me without fear any fear whatsoever. Ann Jackson’s eyes
cutting down and to her left.
Towards the Chakras book.
“In Christianity we call it the Holy Spirit,” she had said.
She hadn’t said the rest because she didn’t want me to tune out. But now I
understood.
“Hold on a second,” I told Sonia. “I need to write something
down before I forget.”
I walked into the Red Room, where I do my journaling. I
opened my journal and scribbled down:
Write about:
Hermitage
Deer
Chakras
I walked back into the kitchen. My heart was light, the way
it is when you finally give in and laugh when you watch a silly movie.
“So what was this thing? Chamras?” Sonia asked.
“Eh, I don’t know,” I said. “Something Ann Jackson was into.
Something Eastern. Way beyond anything I can comprehend.”
END
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