I happened upon a map making process to the sanctuary that is my heart.
An undertaking rather arduous, holy, and tender.
The craft is one that requires humbling revisions to be made. Marks of original tracks both essential and detrimental must be looked at. Patient and reverent is the approach.
Trails towards sites desired are typically unpaved and rugged. They traverse backwards at times and the seeker may come to question, with rightful understanding.
The stars are useful, though not a guarantee in the realm of soul topography. It seems most unfair, and yet, this is how the natural world can present. Curiosity, like a compass, is therefore a most necessary tool, a vital organ.
The blueprint is not fixed and nor is the destination. They are in tandem, alive miracles in a theatrical play with one another.
There is a clarity upon the page. Scratches, falls, and bruises will surely be experienced by the one who considers and travails. No bypassing is possible en route to the temple I seek. Imaginary lines with fancy names, elevations making themselves known, and the ecology of a land. Her waters become apparent as the picture unfolds, as do the plants, and trees and their imperative to be witnessed.
Without slowing down at times one might overlook boundaries that should not be crossed or misjudge a path that was already taken. Mistakes will be made and a first aid salve crafted from the medicines of humility and grace must be in one’s pocket. A phenomenon of possibility becomes the direction and where to begin.
I am on the way.