by Neshamah Emi Miller
I dedicate this story to
my Friend, Mariam
Baker, with gratitude for her love, her dedication and guidance.
Fresh from India and the
amazing Urs celebrations at the Dargah of Hazrat
Inayat Kahn
and the journey to Pakistan -- journeys which filled me with an
abundance of amazing gifts, which, even though they would like to be
shared,
can never be experienced through the written word -- yet when the time
came to 'return' to the every-day world, and it's reality, one landed
with a great
smack in the squeaky clean waters of modern-day West Palm Beach,
Florida. Only
those who have directly experienced both of these streams of
consciousness will understand this
astonishing Reality, which assaulted all levels of awareness. One felt as if she were alone, awake in
a dream world, a world in which all others were sharing the same dream, a dream
which they believed she also shared and was experiencing, and yet they had no
idea that she was experiencing two Realities, two living streams at the same
time:
The pristine lawns, the
streets perfectly paved, with absolutely not one shred of litter, the
palm
trees, blowing their clean arms, in the softest of breezes, the calm,
soft air,
the fluffy white clouds, the lack of traffic on the streets, the
polished cars, the lack of any animals, except the occasional manicured
poodles, with pink ribbons in their hair, and polished toenails. All of this and yet the mureed, still wearing the
garb of an Indian woman, existed with the scents, sights and sounds -- of an
historic land -- and a vision filled Reality -- Breathing the breath of India, tasting and living the lives
of the Saints of Pakistan -- one walked the early morning streets in Holy communion -- with the
Divine One-s, deep in practices, and lived through the days moving between the
worlds.
Altogether, one spent
three weeks in this state of divided being, unwilling to land here -- though eating in delicatessens, one slowly shed the
outward garb -- in order to dine in dressy clothing, with waiters serving polished dishes
in modified tuxedos.
Mother Turtle Appears
On the last full day of this portion of the journey back to modern life, one
was driving her 86-year-old father to a doctor appointment. Along the route, on
a hot, sun-filled palm laced road, one spied a very large turtle, locked in a
battle for survival, on the left side of the road. The turtle was trying, in
vein, to lift herself off of the dangerous highway, onto and over a white,
concrete curb. She was repeatedly flapping her right leg up as high as it would
go, and her small leg was not long enough to get the job done. On this
particular day, the Florida sun shone strong, and the blacktop must have been
hot enough to be burning her body and her tender feet. It was easy to see that
she did not have the ability make it. If she continued in this direction, she
would die of the heat, and if she turned around, a fast moving car would likely
hit her. Yet, she continued to try, with all her might, her neck stretched out
to it’s max to try to see over what was, to her view, a large, white,
impenetrable wall.
As her struggle was going
on in her world, coming back into my own world, I was aware that my father,
whose eyesight is failing, had no knowledge of the trial at hand for the
turtle. We were running late for his visit with the doctor, and the pressure of
time was with us. Yet, I found that I could not leave her there, suffering in
her steadfast struggle to survive. Turning the car around, mid road, I
explained to my father what was going on, and told him I would just be a
minute, and that I would be lifting the turtle up to safety on the grass. And,
so, I stopped the car, rushed out and picked her up and walked her about
halfway across a very large, grassy area. Placing her safely away from the
traffic, in the direction she had chosen to travel, I hurried back to my dad.
As I turned the car around
to continue on my way, I could not help but look into the rear view mirror, to
see how my turtle friend was faring. There she was, head stretched out to the
fullest, eyes to the front, marching with full confidence, straight ahead. Yet,
now, from my new vantage point, I could clearly see where she was headed: ‘Oh,
no’, I thought, ‘She is walking as bravely as she can, but she is headed
directly into another parking lot, and beyond that there is no water at all,
only more rows of buildings and other paved lots filled with cars!’ I knew at
one glance that she would certainly not survive her journey, with the hazards
of traffic, and the heat of the noonday sun.
This was a real dilemma.
We were late, and had our own purpose, and yet I could not put down the task of
helping my turtle friend. So, I pulled the car to the side of the road and told
my father that I felt I would not be able to live with myself, if I did not
help her find her Way to clear water! Imagine, with me for just a moment, how
this request would be a great task for my father – I knew about the constraints
that existed between the natural world and his reality: the absolute
cleanliness of the car, and the manicured lives, in which anything that was
uncontrolled by humans was scary, and anything that was dirty was shunned. Yet,
I forged ahead saying that I would need to put the turtle in the car, in order
to take her to a near-by large body of water, that my dad and I had passed
along our route. To my surprise, my dad thought for a few moments and then
said, “OK, but you are going to have to put her in the trunk!” This acceptance
of both the extra time and placing a living turtle anywhere in the car was a
very big concession.
I turned the car quickly
around again, and headed off to help her. As I stopped, a car that was on the
road behind me began to honk wildly. I did not care. I got out, and opened the
trunk. Making it ready for my honored guest, I received verbal assaults from
the irate driver as he passed us by. Heading toward her, I saw an amazing sight
that instantly opened my heart completely: She had found a tiny little path
amidst the grasses, and with her eyes facing directly in front of her she was
walking, completely committed to her path, yet totally unaware that it was
leading her nowhere. I spoke to her, and she let me pick her up, and retreated
into her shell. Placing her into the hot, dark trunk, I told her it was only
for a short time, and that she would be happy and safe -- very soon!
We quickly arrived at the
hill that led down to the shores of the sparkling body of water where I was to
place her. I happily noticed the many water birds, tall grasses and small fish
that inhabited the blue lake, that merged into the larger system of man-made
water-ways from which she must have wandered. Gathering her from inside the trunk, she remained quiet in
the stillness deep within her shell.
I carefully and lovingly carried her and placed her down very close to
the water’s edge.
Feeling my task
accomplished, I turned to leave, as we were now very late for my dad’s
appointment. Yet, immediately, as I turned, I felt the inner presence of the
“Knowing One”, telling me that my work was not yet complete: I must turn around
and watch to see that she made it safely into the water. It was at this moment that I fully
realized that the whole story of my turtle friend, from the beginning to this
moment, was a Teaching Lesson from
the Inner One-s. Yielding to the Voice of Guidance, I turned back to see her
once more. Immediately, I watched
her as she came out of her shell. She looked slowly first to the left and then
to the right, as her eyes adjusted to the light. She saw the clear water, and
wondered for a moment how she had come to be in this place. She turned and
looked in my direction, and our eyes met, and we knew one another. Then she
turned toward the water, and walked straight ahead, slipping into the cool
depths.
In those moments, I felt
her amazement, her palpable relief, to find herself at the small lake. She
could not have known that she had been found, by a Friend, who had the eyes to
see her problems, who had both the ability -- and the willingness -- to Serve
her on her journey. Yet, this Friend, when I had been told to stop and to look,
to be sure the turtle was safe, in that instant, this Friend was allowed to
see. One’s breath caught in gratitude, and tears gathered in my eyes, at the
‘knowingness’ of the Path. For one was shown, through Serving the sweet mother
Turtle, the Gift of the Guide: We are all Servants of the nearest Friend. We
are all able to Serve as far as our Heart Eyes can see, as wide as our Heart
Ears can hear, and will listen. In that clear moment of thank-full-ness, one-s
gratitude for her own Teacher’s Eyes and Heart -- was opened wide.
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