It is said the gates of Heaven are narrow. You can't pass through carrying arm loads of baggage. Kapische Itraliene? Sprechen das Deutch?
A true story ...
Once uponce a time I visited Boulder Colorado. Of the several visits to that magical land* I'm zeroed in on this one time. When I was there for the Rolf Institute of Structural Integration annual members meeting in 1983, followed by a 6 day Workshop on the subject "The Heroes Journey" lead by Tom and Heather Wing; both luminaries in the world of Rolf.
"Boulder Colorado" ... "27.8 square miles surrounded by reality".
There are hills there, and one sunny weekend I went hiking. Could have been Mount Sanitas. Never got the name.
There was one place overlooking the city where there was a opening between two massive rocks. Just enough to squeeze a body through, but narrow enough to make getting through a nervous challenge. I made it!
Like I said, Boulder is a magical place. Up on that mountain there was a running stream. I took some of its water in the cup of my hand and drank. A white light shot up through me. There was some wild Lavender, just a bit to taste ... an exquisite purple light.
Laying there in the sun drenched tall grass I looked over and there was a stag Elk resting himself not 30 feet to my left. As soon as I spotted him, he got up and calmly moseyed away. Walking through town coming from a party late evening on another day what I imagined must have been that very same beast crossed the road in front of me. Spirit Animal? For sure!
I'm remembering all that magic now, and thinking maybe I should call that narrow passage between those "boulders" Heavens Gate. But let me make something clear about that name. What's in a name? Huh? Being a New Age swingy town I wouldn't want to get it around that there's a "Heavens Gate" up in those hills. Those crazy mofo's would likely go there looking for some spiritually connected magical experience. Fortunately, Naropa University is right there in Boulder so to remind you that you shouldn't make a big deal because after all there's that Buddha's "emptiness" in there. It's a magical town, but let's not get into magical thinking. Kapische Itraliene? You don't need a special something, or place, to have an encounter with the magic of the Mystery. Sit down and be quiet with yourself. There you are. Bada Bing! Bada Boom!
At a party following the 6 Day Workshop we had a circle with a "Talking Stick" passed among the attendees. A Talking Stick is a shamanistic tool for granting the right to speak, speaking truth. I don't recall what I may have said.
The atmosphere that evening was as you might expect, magical. The Spirits were among us. I met a beautiful, free spirited woman there. Next day we went skinny dipping in the Boulder Reservoir. She led the way, striding confidently over that rough, Cactus grown terrain. Me, I kept up, even wearing Birkenstocks. That one time I followed that lovely lady, but that was that. I had other fish to fry, and my own Path to follow. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep."
Boulder Colorado sure serves up the magic! Inspiring.
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