SIBYL MAGAZINE—June 2017/ Galloping Chariots of Fire

SIBYL MAGAZINE—June 2017/ Galloping Chariots of Fire

A PILGRIM SEEKING TEMPLES

Sandra Mattucci—Galloping Chariots of Fire

Backpack in tow, I set out in the early morning.  The ceiling over my head shades of black.  “I am here…I am here.”  What matters is the BEING—being present, walking slowly, and observing quietly.  I saw before me sparkling fiercely galloping chariots carrying embers of shooting flames.  Were they merely stars?  Soon the sun split the darkness splashing hues of pink and orange upon the snow covered mountains.  My eyes could not stop scanning the vistas.

Glistening in far off galaxies, these flames were the signposts for my tomorrows.  In this moment, this NOW, our ancient ancestors embraced me and gently whispered to me.  “Slow down, trust in this time.  Look out and see the myriads of diamonds (stars) that dance in orchestrated harmony.  Walk On.  Together we will find a way—we will keep the flame alive.  Yes, you are a living flame—you are ignited with wonder.  A search for the truth is in you.”  This I heard, a clear message delivered by one of the horses let loose to herald this understanding—this glad tiding.

My steps began to take on a new life.  Though I had walked several hundred miles on this road to Santiago, I seemed to be growing stronger.  The pack on my back was lighter as I rid myself of many unnecessary things.  I walked in so much bliss.  I stopped.  I gazed upon the sun enveloping the landscape as tears rolled down my cheeks drenching the soils beneath my boots.  Each step I took, I was mindful of those who traversed the path before me—the unnoticed—the unnamed, those not needing to draw attention to themselves.  A whispered ‘Namaste’ by this pilgrim sparked an enduring smile and no other words were necessary.  Extraordinary nobodys walk The Way simply to become living flames for eternal tomorrows.

A hidden spark unfurled itself above my head.  It lit the way as I moved onward toward the west.  Night sank into the horizon’s abyss while behind me that great orange ball, a furnace of fire, awaited the revolving dance of steps—endless steps past and present.  Those who had gone this way before and those, like myself, turn the world so that the sun would bring to life the birth of another day.  My mind held this sacred space as if two hands joined in prayer—every moment of life a meditation of awe.

We do have the power to change the world.  I have just begun to understand the joy in my every step.  One day I shall join in the galloping of the chariots.  Their flames continue to dangle, never to be extinguished.  For now, I walk on.  Somewhere within I experience a new rush of adrenaline, my body—every living, breathing cell in unison gives gratitude to this NOW.

Until July,
Buen Camino

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