She loved watching all the different kinds of flowers bloom, infinite expressions of beauty and joy. They blossom just because they have the desire to grow, to reach some unknown limit of absolute potential. She loved how the moss sopped up water and blanketed cool, grey rocks under the shade of tall trees. Her favorite was the sound of water, as winter’s snow melted and filled rivers, rivers the seas.
There was so much majesty, so many forms the earth could shape itself into. She would let the rain fall and unspeakable treasures would grow from every crevice. After the rain when everything was dewed, the sun would shine between leaves and blades of grass. If it was warm, steam would rise from the ground and refract the light. If it was cold, the air was still and she could feel the chill in her bones.
Something new, something that satisfies a part of ourselves, has the power to overwhelm our mind. We can become consumed, and completely oblivious to it at the same time. She kept the sky filled with dark, heavy clouds. She kept the world under water, it rained continuously, and fertility was heightened beyond sustainability. Her tendency towards abundance led her to indulgence. She ignored her practice of self-control and subsequently relinquished her spiritual authority.
It was too much. Too much energy was being expended. Cycles of nature were dishonored and the earth was confused. People lost any semblance of purpose because they lost their understanding of the passage of time. They aimlessly wandered through abandoned villages and overgrown forests. Some drowned. Many animals couldn’t find a place above the water. Plants had to fight for space and couldn’t grow fast enough to keep their leaves, their petals, in the light of the sun.
Life and death were both in abundance. Slowly she saw all that was around her with clarity. How had she not seen it sooner, she wondered. She felt as though it were too late, that nothing could be done.
She realized she couldn’t resolve this alone, and she couldn’t do it in the state she was in. She needed to regain focus, to be able to concentrate her energy. She started with her breath. Then she opened her eyes, gazed around her, and found those who were in need of help. The rain had stopped, but everywhere was flooded. With a flash of intention countless lotuses grew beyond the surface of the water and offered shelter for those in need. She called for the gods and goddesses of the earth and humbly asked for their elephants. They are the givers of rain but they can take it back into their bellies, she said. Re-establishing order and stability was of their greatest concern, and they excitedly conceded.
The elephants drank their fill, maybe even beyond. It was not enough. The earth was still covered. Souls still cried for freedom from deep below. What if this was all for not, was the thought that couldn’t leave her head. She considered her options. She felt as though she had none.
She could contain herself no longer. She wept, and her tears ran down her cheeks to fall into the earth. Because she was intimately connected to all life, the pain of the world was her pain, and she felt it now. She was face-to-face with exactly what she had done, even if it wasn’t the intended result of her actions. She finally felt the full gravity of her choices.
She called out, from the very center of her being. To who she didn’t quite know. A stirring from deep inside then rose into her heart, her throat, her third eye. She felt an unbelievably intense wave of love and calm and she knew instantly the world would carry on. A sensation of authority, of deep knowing, washed over her and she purposefully looked down, into the ground where her tears were now, and watched as the soil, infused with the mysterious, miraculous intentions of goddess power, absorbed what was left behind on the land.
All the lotuses shrank back down to the size they would be in the river, and made their way back home, to the water. The gods sighed with relief, and the people built their lives anew, as they are always doing, day-to-day, year-to-year, birth-to-birth.
Mistakes, alongside unpredictable results, require a practice in surrender – surrendering expectation, surrendering attachment to a specific outcome, and surrender to the requirement of experience in order to gain wisdom.
We fuck up. But then we have an opportunity to learn. As we grow, what we learn dictates how we do so, and how far we go.