Poppy Party

I was sleeping soundly.   

For as long as I can remember, I have been a happy sleeper.    Is there anything more delicious than a peaceful night of slumber?  Well, perhaps a long nap on a rainy winter day.    Sleep in early spring is very different than autumn or winter.  The ambient energies, the vibrations of the earth, lullabies sung in many voices, stir us to wake rather than lull us to sleep when the spring energies are rising.  It was one such time, sleeping naturally and effortlessly, when I suddenly awoke with a start, to realize I'd actually been in my front yard attending a curious party, hosted by covens of California poppies.    Until this happened, I had no knowledge that I was able to do such a thing. 

My cozy surroundings were still rather new to me and awake or asleep, I was in a perpetual state of delight.  And so it was with a heightened sense of awe that I woke up suddenly to realize my consciousness had been in my new front yard while my body was asleep in my bed. 

I looked at the clock.  Midnight.  The full moon bathed my room with a generous quality of intense gentleness -- high frequency gentleness, if you will, through the extra large skylight over my bed.  Now wide awake, all of my senses were aroused as I replayed the magical experience.  I swear this is the God's truth. I'd been the guest of honor at a party of California poppies, a coven of sheathed, pointy-headed beings who wanted a word with me.

I could still hear their high pitched voices, feel their joy, sense the dewdrops on blades of spring grasses sparkling in the milky glow of the radiant moon. I could hear the hymn-quality ballad of stillness that is a peaceful night in the country, accented by the soft rhythms of a hooting owl and a croaking bullfrog.  Yet I had no map for this new experience that suggested so many other possibilities living in a place, a real and true home, I had named, Blessing.

Tomorrow is our blooming day.  We are so happy.  Our destiny, our purpose, our great joy is in blooming.  Tomorrow is the day.  We wanted you to know.

In this brief expression came news of another world, one that seemed perfectly ordered, divinely inspired, and honestly, like a lot of fun.  The poppy beings in my front yard were tiny, but their presence was unforgettably powerful and I knew I totally and completely loved these jubilant munchkins who could not sleep on the eve of their big day. 

An old farmhouse and 6.7 acres in a sweet valley surrounded by reverently undulating hills and a vast sky were my dream come to life.  It would take a lot of hard work, commitment to a big learning curve, and patience for this dream seed of my heart to fully manifest. I craved freedom for my soul, natural beauty for my heart and simple grace of a life in flow with the natural order of things.. I wanted a sanctuary for spiritual communion, a gathering place for kindreds to feel at home.  I wanted wildflowers and gardens, trees, places to meditate, places to play. 

I didn't even have a lawnmower or a proper shovel.  Years of condo life, silk business suits, and more frequent flyer miles than I could use had preceded this new phase of life.  So I arrived on the lookout for anything that seemed promising in the mostly raw, tired and bored pastureland filled with foxtails, wild oats and gangs of blackbirds.  But here and there, poppies appeared, bright golden-orange poofs of magic to my eye, and so, when I acquired my first lawnmower, I mowed around the poppies, and lovingly sent them a smile as I passed by, encouraging them to multiply, unaware that they could feel me doing so.

Perhaps it was this care that earned me the invitation as their guest of honor that night.  I can't say for sure.  I just know it is among my cherished memories of the decade I have passed waking up at Blessing.  And it set the tone for how I learned to love this place, evolving it and me into my earnest, heart-felt contribution to heaven on earth.

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."   

Bobby - age 7