By Carol Seck
This is a story of who you are and what you came into the land of earth to do.
Picture a small girl, on a warm day, with the sun beating down from the heavens and a gentle breeze tumbling clouds around the blue sky. She sits in the middle of a field, making daisy chains out of the stems of flowers. Breathing in the clean air, rubbing her fingers over the cool soil, enjoying being alive at that very moment, in that beautiful place.
She runs her fingers over the top of the friendly grass and smells it's sweet fragrance. She plunges her small hands deep into the grass and feels something; something not grass, something not flower, something not soil, something long and thin and cool. She pulls it up into the light and finds a long strand of gleaming gold thread that seems to radiantly dance in the light of the sun.
She is at the beginning of it but where is the end? The joy of her being will not let her sit and wonder for long, she must follow it and see where it goes. She starts wrapping it around her wrist, where it throbs with energy and light and starts to follow where it leads. It goes off across the grass, over a hill, through a small stand of trees, through a small valley and into a clearing. And there in the clearing sits a woman.
She is clothed in a blue gown, as radiant blue as the thread is gold. Before her is a loom and all of her attention is on what she is weaving. As the small child approaches, still following the thread, she realizes that the thread leads to a spool that sits at the end of the loom, along with other threads of many colors. She quietly comes up to the beautiful weaver and stands to the side of the loom and watches the colorful tapestry take shape before her eyes. As she looks more closely, she sees that the tapestry is like a painting, a great cloth canvas with different scenes.
Some of the scenes show danger, some show joy, some weeping, some rejoicing. Some show triumph, some failure but through them all, flow the golden thread. It weaves it self through a birth and a death, through discovery and despair, through illness and vibrancy. It travels through the dark night of the soul and back out again into the light. And everywhere it goes in the tapestry, even in the places where the colors seem dark and foreboding, it never disappears. At times it is so deep in the pile of the cloth it is hard to find but if you look closely it is always there. And as the small child watches, the lady finishes the tapestry, trims off all the edges and ties off all the corners, all except for the golden thread that still rests in the hands of the child.
"Here dearest one," she says to the child as she wraps the tapestry around her. "Here is your life. Wear it proudly and remember that you and I planned it together.
" But Mother, I did not weave, I only stood and watched" replied the child, " You and I are the same, dearest one. You hold the most important part, the golden thread, the memory of who you are. A being complete and whole, joyful and eternal, free to explore, to create, to breath, to radiate light. Remember this and you will always know the secret of your life. Hold that thread and you will live your life proudly and come back again, when you have followed it to the end, and I will be here to welcome you."
And for each of us it is so, there is a golden thread that run through our lives that is the essence of who we truly are, a child of the Universal Mother, and if we follow it, we will find our way home.
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