I have a flash drive – a memory stick.
On it is a huge archive. All my published work in electronic files (important for new editions), every funeral I have taken since 2005 (runs into hundreds), all the minutes of our Parochial Church Council for the last few years, financial accounts and tax records, and loads of preaching, liturgical and retreat resources. This archive is important to me and I draw on it constantly.
Today I needed my flash drive to archive a recent funeral. Uh-oh. I lost it.
I looked in all the places I thought it might be, with no success. I didn’t feel too worried – I knew I hadn’t taken it out anywhere, so unless it had inadvertently been put through the washing machine in a pocket it was bound to turn up eventually. Even so it bothered me, because I wouldn’t like to be permanently parted from that thing.
When something bothers me, it does so in a quiet, niggling way. Eventually the niggling escalates; turns up the volume until it gets my attention. This happened. I got to the “I’m going to find that blessed thing” frame of mind.
Then something happened that really made me think.
I consciously did something I then realized I have been unconsciously doing all my life.
I should explain that normally I rely on meticulously observed routine to maintain order in my life. I always put things away where they belong, in the same place. I file records. I schedule events in my diary. So usually I can put my hand on whatever I need right when I need it. I maximize order and minimize chaos. HOWEVER – in the last few weeks my life has been substantially untidied by a simple coincidence of events: I moved all my things into Komorebi at the same time as my husband took his annual Christmas fortnight’s leave. Chaos. During this time, when I had not yet established a Komorebi routine, but had moved my things into Komorebi while staying in the Badger's space to be companionable, my possessions in regular use kept being set down in temporary locations. That’s how I lost the flash drive. So it could have been:
- In a pocket
- In a bag
- In the back sitting room
- In the front sitting room
- In the Badger’s lair
- In the kitchen of the big house
- In Komorebi
As I said, I looked everywhere; no joy.
But at the moment the niggling escalated to serious annoyance, this thing became conscious: I can feel everything I own.
I sat on the sofa and seriously concentrated my mind into the question, “Is the flash drive in this house?”
I felt the entire house with my internal antennae and I knew it was not there. Not only could I not feel it there, but I could feel it not there.
Then I felt with my internal antennae along the question: “Where is it then?”
And I knew it was in Komorebi. Knew it. Knew if I searched diligently enough I would find it there.
So I did, and I did.
And I realized with some force why it is that I cannot have many possessions: because they constantly keep in touch with me – every single one. They are in energetic connection with me. My energy travels along threads to them, and their energy has a claim on me. Their “voices” claim my attention.
In a similar way, if I go into a large gathering, it quickly crashes my consciousness; I can’t stay long – because the vibrational chatter becomes overwhelming.