I’d been walking in the Arizona summer heat for awhile with no water. I wasn’t used to the heat, but it seemed there was a divine shield that made the body immune to the elements. I wanted to see the Buddhist Stupa in Sedona and so I kept going. I was walking on air, it seemed.
I was all alone every step of the way; and yet, I was never alone. My surroundings were nothing but an extension of God’s Love in an outward breath; God was breathing for me. Every step taken was like an internal musical note, reverberating and radiating bliss. On the offering table in the stupa was a fresh bottle of water. I left five dollars in its place and drank deeply. Only then did it seem like I inhaled on my own.
I placed the empty water bottle on a wooden patio and then laid on my back with the bottle in the crook of my neck like a pillow. I closed my eyes and folded my hands across my abdomen and left the body.
I soared high into the sky, past the gay prayer flags that snapped and clapped in the breeze. They were my adoring audience; they watched me cut free. I soared past the gentle powder puff clouds and right into the sun. I became the tiniest beam; a yellow photon crystal backed by the infinite blue wonder of space.
A presence drew me back. A gentle tug, like a small child patiently waiting . The sense of a heart beating. My own.
Darcie French 