The name of this place is ironic to me. It implies a place
of difficulty, of long suffering, being in between, potentially on the way to
something better, but one cannot be sure of when, or how? And, what will it
look like on the other side?
I don’t believe in the Catholic concept of Purgatory, yet if
one looks at or climbs through the chasm here, I can certainly understand the
comparison.
As I recall from many years ago when I could do such things, the climb through is NOT easy, but is definitely worth it. The chasm is beautiful in its silent power.
This land of giant stones, trees, water, animals and so many
spirits touches my soul like few other places.
The irony in the name, for me, lies in the way I feel so
completely at peace, so very much at home here. Here, there is never conflict
or suffering for me.
I connect deeply with the spirits here. The stone people
have allowed me to “see” their story when I touch them. The trees breathe and
are as one. They will tell you many things if you can empty yourself. The
waters here contain blessings for those who come with humility. The spirits of
the land are luminous in the perfection of oneness with our Earth Mother. They
are my friends.
In every season, there is beauty. After a winter snowstorm,
the sleeping trees creak in the cold wind, and if you close your eyes, you can
catch a glimpse of their dreams, as they prepare to bring the green things back
to life in the Spring. They show us by their example, there is always life,
even in the cold, dark seasons. But it takes time, and often we must wait.
In the spring, all is life! Birds, insects, buds, and stream
will all teach you about rebirth, if you are open. Spring here reminds us of
hope. Hope that does not die. The energy of new life is so potent, you could
dip a ladle in endlessly, and never be thirsty, forever.
Warm summer days here are bliss. Park your car near the
water. The water reflects on the underside of the leaves, poetry in motion.
Frogs croak. Dragonflies dart about, bees buzz, and flowers grow on lily pads. Do
not bring your agenda. Just sit. Be.
Autumn here is glorious, with all the colors of New England.
The air is crisp, and all of nature is decked out in her finest. As the veil
thins, Mother Earth reminds us that the Autumn cycle of life can be the most
delicious, most breathtaking time of all. I like that, as enjoy my own
"autumn."
Purgatory. A place of waiting, a place of in between, when
we are neither here nor there. It can be uncomfortable.
Sometimes there is nothing, just endless bland nothing, and
you just want to MOVE, to find out what is next, to FEEL something. Other
times, there is great upheaval. Ask the giant stones here about that. They will
remind you that like them, you too will arrive after the time of the great
rising. You too will survive, and be strong, beautiful in your own perfect way.
Purgatory? Indeed. Perhaps this is a perfect analogy for
this year.
As the spirits here teach, all is well in its own cycle. Let
us keep going, helping one another as the wheel of the year continues.
Blessings to you.
Written at Purgatory Chasm State Park, Sutton MA, July 1,
2020
