moonWhen I think of a spiritual day trip, often I remember my trips in the evening, or even at night. Sometimes, I climb in the car, tune into my guidance, and just go. Each street crossing is another opportunity to test the direction I am receiving: left, right, or forward. Sometimes I’ll hear an internal voice, sometimes I just get a sense, sometimes it’s like my muscles just know, and my mind catches up later. And sometimes I’m not quite certain, or I doubt my ability to perceive accurate directions at all.

One time my day was complete, I had a few hours before bed, and still had some energy. I got in the car, followed the guidance, and felt the direction to stop at some open field out west of the Cities, where I had never been before. I walked out onto the field, recognizing it as a fairway on a golf course. I was in awe of the stars, so clear this beautiful dark night. I stood there and prayed, rejoicing over the beauty, and the peace, and the awesome night sky. I prayed for peace in the world, and a peaceful transition for the world and humanity in this time when spiritual life comes into the mainstream. I prayed until I was done, then asked my guidance, is there more that I could help with?

No, they said, but if you wish, there is one more journey you could do this night. My energy was still okay, so I said, “Lead on.” This time, more confusing turns and I was totally lost. The last turn was onto a dead end street, and down a hill, with houses on both sides of the street. Not a park this time. I wasn’t even sure this was a safe place! But this was the place, my muscles told me.
So I got out of the car.

It was totally pitch black. With the head lights off, I couldn’t tell where the street and curb would meet. I just walked gingerly up the middle of the street for about 15 seconds. Then I saw a light coming through the base of the trees in someone’s yard. Just a glimmer at first. I couldn’t make sense of it. As I walked, it became brighter, and stayed in the same direction, even in the next yard up the street. It wasn’t till the third yard that I almost laughed out loud, recognizing finally that it was a moon rise, clear and bright and beautiful.

I was stunned. How could the guides, whoever they were I still don’t know, compute the timing and subjective positioning such that they could arrange my arrival at that particular location just moments before I would see the bright moon rise, through bumps and hills and trees in some peoples’ yards? It was awesome, beautiful, and beyond comprehension — yet, as undeniable as a predictable moonrise over Lake Calhoun. They even told me ahead that something was coming. Could they compute how long I would wait at a traffic signal, or wait for cars at a stop sign, or know the pressure of my foot on the accelerator?

Sometimes I must simply be content, appreciating and knowing the mystery is beyond me.

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