When I came down two years ago 'from the mountain' as they say, from my 4 day vision quest in the sage brush desert, barefoot and dirty but with a mind as clean and clear as a mountain lake, I was bathed by the hands of my wise guide. A ceremonial welcome back bathing with a single handkerchief that she then placed in my right hand. I intuitively turned my palm to the ground, and then slowly it ebbed skyward again, rocking, and she reached to continue this dance; back and forth we moved together, our fingers touching, till she spoke.

'And this is your work. To know what is yours to carry', she said, ...

...and then turning my hand downward again, she added, 'and what is not.'

Immediately i replied, 'Discernment.' And she nodded, as the wise ones do, while looking through me with the deep pools of her fierce eyes.

For two years, I've heard the echo of those words. I move forward and start adding things, this and that, happily balancing the pile I carry, and suddenly realize things are added that are not mine; bits of my children's emotions, my lovers' concerns, the should's of my community, the requests from friends that need some time with me, optional obligations...and suddenly Im carrying a load quite like the one my little one carried on a beach trip last week.

And this is why the young teach us, if we only slow to listen. And why it is good to be like a child and be curious about our very pure nature, to watch around us how nature models how one stays in balance. How the little ones already know when they are carrying more than they can handle and they do not waste time trying to make it different than it is.

I watch and learn. First, he adds a special stick to his pile. Soon after, he spots a shiny rock and adds that too. And finally, he spots a shell and as he goes to grab it, drops it all in a heap on the sand. I see him try over and over to pick it all back up, to fit it in, to arrange it differently, to make things smaller or tuck them into pockets, and then he looks up to me and asks, 'Can you help me carry it, mama?'.

I hear the echo of the wise one, 'Only carry what you can, love', I say.

And so, with his clear and quick discernment, he drops the stick, smiles, and moves on with the rest in his arms. There is nothing but his own intuition and willingness to create space for the things he wants, by letting go of those he deems, in an instant, less important or irrelevant.

I am learning the way. It is by practice. Practice in getting clear, making the best choice I can, and letting go. I also acknowledge that I might regret leaving behind that stick. It's okay to make less than perfect decisions because that's how we learn...how did that feel? Was that the right one for me? The important part is that we are making our own decisions not based on anyones value system but our own.

And, I want to get quicker and quicker so I can move through my days saying Yes! to what is right. As my pace quickens in my discernment, I receive the gift of something so much greater than anything I might have left behind:

Self Trust.

And trusting oneself can only render a map leading to the exact spot a particular soul is meant to be. That's the place I want to go, all by myself, with just a blanket and a few treasures that are my very own. I want to live there among what I have created, at peace, because finally, I've left behind all that did not serve me. All that needed composting. All that needed the wind to take it and scatter it for other searchers to find.

For me. Just these things. For you. Different things. A choose your own adventure of the soul.