An Angel, a King, and a Shaman

Some trips are vacations and some are pilgrimages. Very few are both; a perfect storm of rejuvenation and discovery, perspective and introspection, spiritual advancement and respite. My long weekend in California managed that delicate balance, and I offer this as evidence that San Diego is magical.

On Friday night, I attended a house party with my faithful travel companion, his undeniably awesome college roommate, and an angel. Yes, an angel, with a halo of curly spun gold and kind, soulful eyes.

I slipped out and away from the crowd to admire the stars, and he came to me with his message, carefully cloaked in parable.

It appeared to be simply a meaningful conversation between two souls newly acquainted, until the anguish crept into his handsome face and he began to wring his hands.

“It isn’t that I don’t love her. I do love her. She’s a great girl. She’s beautiful and smart and wonderful. She deserves someone whose heart skips a beat when he sees her across the room, you know, she’s so worthy of that, and mine just doesn’t, it doesn’t, and I tried so hard, because I wanted it to be that way. But it isn’t. And she deserves that. I hate hurting her, I hate it, I do, and sometimes I miss her so badly, but I know that she won’t move on if I give her any reason not to, and I want her to be happy, even if I can’t be the one to give her that happiness.”

Everything in me wanted to pull his frame-  slender and tall, with an hauntingly familiar grace that one only recognizes by aching for and agonizing over every last inch- towards my own. I wanted to cover him in tears, rest my browbone on his collarbone and feel his strong but nimble hand in the small of my back.

I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, that I understood, but that I didn’t understand, really, that I never would understand why it wasn’t enough, what it was that was missing, how he could miss me so terribly and still think it wasn’t enough. My hand felt pulled like a magnet to the crown of his head, and the swell of my hip ached to sit just above his, and I wanted to smother him in kisses.

We were interrupted then, and to an outside observer, it seemed as if the two of us were having an incredibly intense and personal discussion. Only this angel and I could see the two other people with their hearts in their hands. I never did get to answer him, but I did insist on hugging him goodbye.

“Now as he was speaking with me, I was in a deep sleep on my face toward the ground: but he touched me, and set me upright.”

The next day, I noticed that my heart had stopped waiting. For so long, I feared that my hope would slip away with the aching, that letting go was a resignation. Instead I found that the canopy had opened up to let the light in at last, and hope began to cover the forest floor like a carpet and bloom like the entire month of April.

I tried to find him, so I could thank him, so I could tell him that I heard his message, so that I could answer him, but he was gone.

Early Sunday morning, I met a King. He kissed my hand and held court for me, he flaunted his riches and fame with unabashed pride, mentioning only one defeat in a lifetime of battle. When I wished him blessings as I made my leave, he grinned true and wide and assured me that he was already blessed.

Concerned onlookers saw a woman having an animated discussion with an old man wearing a field jacket with a bible in the front left pocket, and nothing in the other pockets.

I couldn’t hold the front off the shore after that, and I wept openly with despair and fear, yes, but more than those, gratitude for all the love and light that keeps me safely sheltered from the war this man fights within and in the world. For family and friends that care so deeply and give so freely that though my net worth is only a little bit higher than the King’s, I am kept in so much finery. Enough to both raise and answer the question of my worth, in dizzying proportion.

As I entered the outer edges of familiar territory, I encountered a powerful healer. He was surprised to see me, but I knew better, because he always shows up when my emotional sea is churning dark, just before the wind lays down and the sun breaks through.

I told him what I’d seen and done, how I felt, and the questions I still had. He took it all in, as he always does, and said with quiet measure:

“I really believe we find what we seek- if you look for doubt, you’ll find it. I try to look for love, instead.”