I was walking with a burden this week. No bigger or smaller than anyone else’s, it was just a burden. The kind that takes up residence sometimes and refuses to leave.
So on Sunday, I asked the Universe for help—“Help me find peace with this,” I said out loud as I made my way along the path. But the burden voiced its opinions loudly for most of the hour…with much repetition. Near the end of my walk, a sturdy breeze wound its way through the trees, up the path, into my face and through my hair. “Cool your temper,” it whispered, “Shhhhhhh.”
On Monday, the burden returned, early in the morning and sat with me all day. I went to the woods and asked the Universe again—“Help me find peace with this,” wondering if she would listen to my request this time. Near the footbridge, a butterfly floated back and forth, and I asked her to come closer. She flitted here and there for a while, then sat gently down, right in front of me, for several shutter snaps. “It will come to you,” the Universe whispered, “Have patience.”
On Tuesday, the burden returned once more. “What about this? What about that? Remember this? Remember that?,” it demanded, getting heavier and heavier as I walked. “Help me find peace with this,” I asked again, looking up to the sky for some kind of guidance. Above me, eight ospreys danced and sang–making great joyful loops in the sky. “Let it go,” the Universe whispered, “Find joy.”
On Wednesday, the burden returned again. But it was quieter now. Not as intrusive, but still around enough to notice. “I have to find peace with this,” I said out loud as I watched my steps along the path. There, in front of me, was a heart-shaped rock—set out as if to catch my eye. “Some things are more important,” the Universe whispered, “Love.”
I tucked the rock in my pocket and have felt lighter ever since.
©2012, Jen Payne