During a recent unseasonably warm and sunny day, as I was lounging on my sofa and attempting to nap through a coconut vinegar and bentonite clay face mask, (which are sensational, in multiple senses of the word) I was distracted by a voice wafting through my open living room window. At first, I thought it was another version of a usual occurrence – passersby often engage in chat or song or old school boom box serenades down rue d’Ilka, but after ten seconds or so I realized someone had chosen the sidewalk directly in front of my house as their spot to leave a break-up voicemail.
The sudden plunge into a stranger’s vulnerable intimate moment was awkward. It was also irritating – an extra-intangible space invasion. I briefly considered removing myself from the situation – do I give her privacy? Has she forfeited her right to said privacy by standing on my lawn? Well, now I can’t close the window because she’ll see me. Really, girl, you couldn’t make it to the corner? – before I remembered that vocal trespassing cancels out eavesdropping. It says so in my renter’s insurance policy. Plus, our house is a vortex and I’m pretty sure that, on some level, Someone sensed it. So, I decided to see what would happen if I treated the situation as an opportunity to witness another being’s liberation, which is part of the whole point of me, after all.
I requested and received Someone’s psychic permission to golden sun her. Golden suns are these amazing meditation tools – like delivery systems for your unique source energy. Think custom fuel for mind-body-spirit, with the benefits of (among other things): fresh-pressed juice/vitamins/orgasms/a nap. Fast-acting with no side effects that help you function as your wittiest, prettiest, most compassionate, and most courageous self.
Anyway, here’s the really good part: the entire time I was experiencing my should-I-stay-or-go shenanigans, I was obviously also listening to Someone talk, and – I kid you not – within seconds of receiving her Sun, the quality of her voice changed. Did a full-on 180 from tenuous and pitched high with an inquiry: “I can’t do this anymore?” to grounded and vibrant – in the space of a single sentence. It lowered two octaves. Even her word choice transformed: “I deserve more than you’re willing to offer. And it’s no one’s fault.”
I might have applauded.
She said more after that, but I didn’t hear much of it. She’d found her legs and continued on her way. Still speaking her piece to the corner and probably beyond. And while I have no other evidence that my actions improved the situation for her other, it was lovely for me, and in so being, my memory of Someone resides on a high vibration, which, is enough to scooch us all a little closer to light.
