Kundalini Splendor

(picture by Patricia Lay-Dorsey)

Yesterday was my 80th birthday, a number which seems most improbable. We do not, of course, think of ourselves as among the "old." The elders, maybe, the "getting on," perhaps. But eighty? No way. That is an age for bent crones and bearded ancients mumbling to themselves.

Unexpected things happen when we enter this stage. We become less vulnerable to upset, less judgmental, less involved in the day to day happenings of ourselves and the world. We learn to step back, to observe from a distance, to compare current happenings with past events. Often we reflect that we have indeed "been there, done that" before.

But we do not become complacent or disinterested. Our sense of adventure remains high, and our passion intense, but we shift focus. We know our own inner strengths and weaknesses, but we have come to terms with them. Our power is more focused, our intentions more clear. We have weeded out the extraneous and retained the essential. Our friends become ever more important. We realize that this is the time to give our creativity full attention, for now we know, finally, that our time will be limited. It is now we must say whatever it is we need to say, connect with whatever or whomever we need to touch, explore what remains yet unknown.

Our inner spiritual process continues to unfold in new and exciting ways. We discover more avenues of inner growth and expression, means of "bringing the gift back home." This is the harvest time, when the pattern of our lives emerges as it nears completion.

We do not lie down and roll over, but we may yawn in the face of circumstance. We continue to dance our dance, though the rhythm has changed.

Fortunately I have many amazing friends, who helped me to celebrate and make this day an occasion to remember. As I looked around the room at this gathering (about 10 in all), I was struck by how evolved these people were. Each was precious in her (and one his) own way, each shone with inner illumination, so that their faces took on a truly angelic radiance, as if each one came forth in the perfection of herself. Others remarked later that a special atmosphere was created by these most remarkable people.

Among them were artists, poets, spiritual teachers, the intellectually advanced and those who gave freely of themselves to the welfare of others, including animals as well as people. Members of this group have traveled to virtually all parts of the world, engaged in a diversity of activities. They are the kind of people who are at home in the world, and--though they were not acquainted beforehand--they immediately bonded with one another and sensed each other's inner qualities.

As I gazed around this circle I realized,again,that friends are our most important possession (outside of family for some), and that these connections are what sustain us, get us through, and allow us to be who we are in their presence. With friends we become our true selves, and they do the same. This is the authentic moment, the reality of our lives.

And--last night--I wrote this poem:

On My Eightieth Birthday

I will, yes,
know everything,
seed to tree,
bole to blossoming,
what begins in joy
and ends in pain ,
the moment lost in
time's hurricane,
the interlude engraved on the heart,
the one who was faithful,
the one who failed,
all of it
eaten like a dark blessing,
a sweet wafer soothing
the tongue.

Dorothy Walters
March 17, 2008