“How do you know?” I’m often asked.
“How do you know if this is right or true?” I’d repeat back and refine the question as the waterfall of agape warmth flooded the field of my being. Inevitably, we’d nod the question into the ineffable between us as my hands would be danced and spun into complex mudras through the air. Soon, the Language of Love would lilt and soothe in breathy notes, “How do I know this is real?”
“Yes.”
I used to answer, “It’s akin to chocolate. Or love. How can one describe the sensation of a deeper Knowing? Sweet to some, a melting of deliciousness to others.” But later, I listened more deeply.
The Sacred Yes?
My heart heaved. Where is it? What does that even mean in a jumble of detritus falling from an upside-down, inside-out, black hole of a handbag world in need of a good cleaning?
I searched for the half-melted chocolate Kiss to share. Yet, whenever I have looked to the pockets of “experts” for the definitions of sacred truths, I’ve been left wanting—books, sermons, Ted Talks, retreats, or meditation — sure, there were often helpful or fascinating bits. I am a voracious learner, intrigued by the adventures of fellow travelers. I love the stories of the open road and the closed circle. I crave fire and inspiration. Western culture teaches us to look outward—the expert, the priest, professor, or shrink. But feminine wisdom mothers our quiver, sharpens our intentions, and prays over each bow–why go looking to others when the sacred is deeply, magnificently within?
Try as I might, I’d struggled to get through the movie, “What the Bleep Do We Know!?” Three times I tried. Three times I fell asleep, but months later, one segment rose to mind as I arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah, to shoot a movie for Disney called “Buffalo Dreams.” I was so happy to be warmly welcomed and upgraded unbidden to a suite at The Grand American Hotel that, as soon as I unpacked, I opened my hands to give thanks and cheerily concluded with the phrase from one character, “Show me, in no uncertain terms, I am on the right path with Buffalo Dreams.”
Minutes later, I jogged out of the hotel and found my way into a beautiful park. It was surreal to see belly dancers rehearsing on a stage on one side of the path, but even more enchanting was a spot of sunshine in the middle of the field, far, far off the dirt path. I had to run over, bowled over to find a Native American man sitting at a long table with a couple dozen kachinas, all soft, wooden, painted dolls used for a maiden’s rite of passage, each representing different aspects in the mythology of his origin.
“What is this one?” I asked, pointing to one with a tuft of fur on her head.
“That is the Buffalo Woman,” he replied.
“Buffalo Woman! I’m here to work on a Navajo story, called Buffalo Dreams!”
A Sacred Yes.
Since then, there have been many, many Sacred Yeses.
The air sparked the first time I asked: “How may my hands serve for the best and highest good of one and all?” and then, as I took another breath, the current moved within me like a tuning fork, so then I said, “Show me in no uncertain terms, how my hands may serve for the best and highest good of one and all.” Every day, this was part of my prayer. Is it any surprise that years later, my hands began to dance with Source Energy to help people connect to their own gifts of healing, deeper peace, or abiding love?
Try it. Breathe into your hands, your heart, and your deeper listening. What gifts might be awaiting your Sacred Yes?
