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By Edie Weinstein-Moser

A week ago, I was sitting on a carpeted stairway outside the ballroom of the La Fonda Hotel in Santa Fe, New Mexico, at the Shamanism, Enlightenment and Sacred Sexuality Conference, having a conversation with a few people with whom I had spent five days immersed in spirit soup. We marveled at what had transpired, the connections made and the sense of serenity that pervaded the experience. One man commented that although we might think of returning to the ‘world’ as being “back to reality”, in truth, what 400 or so people had shared that week, was reality and the stuff on the outside was the illusion. The illusion of separation, fear, struggle and pain. We can consider it a maze that we wander through, seeking a way out or a labyrinth that we intentionally travel. Many of us that night, chose the labyrinth.

Joe Miguez, a labyrinth builder, created a mystical journey in the darkened ballroom in which we had sat enthralled, for days, for a series of presentations and keynotes and in which morning yoga was held. The structure was spread out, surrounded by tea light candles and rocks, blue iridescently illuminated lights woven around. We were each given a yellow string to use as a compass, to point us in the direction we wanted to go; since on a spiritual journey it helps to have some focus, or we could end up who knows where? We were also handed a plastic cup on which a piece of paper was taped. On it, we were to write our intentions for the walk.

The cup was filled with water that we carried throughout the stroll. We could, if we chose, drink the water that ostensibly was charged with our intentions. In my case, I found myself ingesting the energies of ‘love in all forms, abundance, compassion, gratitude, healing and Divine Dance’, as I walked barefoot on the soft surface, white feathers tickling my feet as I stepped lightly, pace based on those around and beside me. Touching others lightly, shoulder to shoulder, gently cupping the smiling face of a friend as he and I passed. Each step in my life; joyful or painful, brought me to this place of moving meditation, silent contemplation. There was no hurry. We had each entered between poles labeled Desire and Fear, knowing that there is always choice. I found myself thinking about how I would express this experience so that you who might read about it, could have a sense of what transpired in that room. Then I commanded myself to STOP! I reminded myself of something that had arisen in a workshop I had attended that week in which I learned a valuable lesson I hope I never forget.

Roll back the clock and I found myself sitting in a circle in a classroom in which husband and wife team Rich and Antra Borofsky were offering their wisdom in a workshop entitled: “Blessing Our Union: The Sacrament of Sex”. Much of the information was familiar to me, having offered couples counseling over the years and simply having lived to the age of 47. We did a partner exercise that had each of us saying four simple words, verbally see-sawing back and forth with each other. My partner was Charmiane; a lovely and sweet healer with a soothing British accent. I felt like Julie Andrews was serenading me as she began by offering the words “For you.” to which I was to respond in acceptance “For me.”, to which she countered “For you.” and again, “For me.” After the third exchange, I dissolved into tears.

My initial thought was how grateful I felt that I have loving and wonderful friends with whom I metaphorically do this dance every day and yet I miss the consistency of that in a relationship with a committed partner. My second thought was that I wish Michael and I had been as conscious in partnership as I feel we would be now. Antra and Rich beamed support toward me and asked if I would be willing to do this exercise with the entire group. Did I really have a choice? For a few moments, I sat in receptivity as 40-some hearts sent their energy my way and offered the words “For you.” to which I was able to choke out “For me.” and then a series of thank you’s which translated to “I can’t handle all this love. Please stop.” Whew! My friend Kim called me on that today over the phone long distance from Houston, wondering why I wasn’t accepting the love, particularly since I teach this stuff. Not accepting support. A common theme in my life. In the yoga classes that were offered each morning of the conference, Gail, trained in the Iyengar style, had us using chairs as props for the practice. Inside I grumbled, “I don’t need a chair, I can do without it.”, but I went along with the instructions, wondering why I have had such resistance to receiving support in my life. It goes along with the financial challenges I have faced. It accompanies the push-pull, desire-fear dichotomy with regard to relationship. I’ve supported myself since Michael died, now to allow a partner to share in the support scares me a bit. I wonder about its origins and how to put it to sleep with a delightful bed time story that will have it snoozing in no time.

Uncharacteristically, I waited this long to write this story, because I wanted to, as presenter Isaac Shapiro had suggested, ‘relish’ the experience, holding it sacred ‘for me.’ I received an email from my friend Gary with whom I had shared a bit of what occurred there which speaks to why I feel called to continue to write when the Muse prods me; hoping that it doesn’t come across as self-indulgent.

“I'm glad you were there and could bring us back a "snapshot" of the event so we can experience it in a somewhat holographic sense vicariously through you. {erhaps that's what your gift and talent is...to vicariously present the experience of others who take us to transcendental spaces and places through you on a vicarious level. I really get that sense of who you are. Your words capture the essence of an experience as you have the gift of writing like poetry that brings the experience to the soul level and energetically transmits the vibratory essence of what it is about.”

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