Editor’s Note: The version of this poem below was previously published in One Earth magazine Vol 2, Issue 1, September/October 1981
The story
A few weeks ago I woke up with the strong feeling that I should talk to the participants in my online Soul Infusions course about the importance of releasing unused angels, long forgotten … the line that came to me was ‘trundling them behind me on a long string of memories’ … it’s a line from a poem (1,2,3 – Go), I wrote in the mid 80’s when I left Findhorn and which I unearthed when I moved back here.
As the ‘plane touched down in Inverness in 2020 and Dürten drove us into the Park, whisperings of this poem kept coming to me. So once my computer was charged I unearthed the poem and on re-reading it realised I was at a higher (hopefully more aware!) turn of the same spiral that I experienced in 1971 when I first waded into the Findhorn pool … half a century earlier :-)
It highlights not only my Findhorn journey but also my/our propensity for holding on … a habit reinforced by our years as dedicated super-trundlers and the ramifications of viewing life through this lens!
Now ‘1,2,3 – Go’ reminds me of all our beginnings and endings, the remembering and the forgetting we are always experiencing … the impermanence of life, the endless spiral of changes, and the silliness of grasping stability in all the wrong places and reinforcing an identity that keeps us rooted in the past … feels like a spiritual figure/ground reversal … a both/and moment … starring in the movie and watching it in the theatre at the same time!
I haven’t posted the poem on my Soul Infusions online course hub as not all the participants in my courses have played the Game and I know that the poem is full of jargon and Game-Speak. I mean who other than the people who have played the original Game of Transformation would know that GOD is an acronym for Game Overall Director?
Maybe I could use this poem as the basis for a local study group … or part of ‘I to We’? …
Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy reading this golden oldie … I chuckle each time I read it now and hope that it’ll awaken fond memories of your soul’s journey and your time here too.
Grab your snorkel and flippers and get ready to get wet :-)
The Poem
One – two – three – GO!
I rolled the dice and moved my counter to Findhorn
Waking up to find myself
Standing at the edge of a huge pool
Feeling visible
vulnerable
and tentative
As I waded in
All the stuff I’d accumulated
Surfaced to be washed away
But some of it had been there for quite a time
And I had to soak for a while
In hot water
Before it would loosen enough to scrub off
In the orientation class
Bloody • joyful • painfilled • blissed out roller coaster
I spent a lot of it
Paddle splashing about in the shallow end
Trying to keep my head above water
Laughing
In
Crying
Out
And shivering
Between sessions
It was all so confusing
Where am I? (trying to understand the map) Where am I going?
(and find my compass) How can I get there? (wondering if I’ll
ever figure out how to fit it all together so it works) the mystery
Continued
Each episode more intriguing, challenging and frustrating
Than the last
Until
One day I discovered
That both my feet had left the bottom
At the same time!
Utterly shocked
I had to admit I was swimming
(Rather than drowning)
I was actually making it
In the first person • • ME • • I • • MYSELF • •
Undeniably sploshing and spluttering my own little way
Into a new age
More stunned than dedicated
I stayed with the process when the bell rang
Following the inner instructions faithfully
Becoming a proficient swimmer
Leaping unaccompanied from high diving boards
Time after time after time
(What a life)
Growing taller tougher daintier
Reaching further and deeper
And twirling up and own with unbelievable velocity and accuracy
Up down up
staggering punctuality
up down up
somehow
With amazing style and grace
I learnt to swim eat breathe sleep
And stay conscious in groups
Pick up heavy weights from the bottom
And assist knights and maidens in distress
With my eyes open or closed
(Like it was no big deal)
I learnt to cross the great divide
At least twice a day whatever the weather forecast
Balanced only on the edge of my journal
Juggling on the high wire
With the forms of several precarious relationships
And risking life and limb
I experienced in-service training without a safety net
And survived
Emerging
(miraculously)
sane and sexy
That I always made it home in one piece
Was to the credit of no piddly spiritual drizzle
But a personal torrential downpouring
Drenching me conscious
Soaking me back to life
With a monsoon kiss of joviality and self-acceptance
But then
Out of the blue
Just as I’m beginning to feel comfortable with the brisk team events
The unheated pool, high altitude and tofu-burgers
A divine whistle blows
synapses snap into long awaited action
as the internal megaphone announces
COME ON COME OUT
your time’s up
Oh drat
Oh
Drat
Clambering out takes a while mutter mumble grumble
Knights and maidens are friends by now double drat
Exits must be spoken
Tender lines widespreading heartfelt embraces
Fare
thee
well
Once again I’m standing alone at another turn of the spiral
Shaking the water off my counter
Slipping into normal clothes
And a strangely ordinary world-forgotten vocabulary
Feeling visible
vulnerable
and tentative
As I realize
Mystery schools only ever really make it
When students and staff leap over
The familiar boundaries of the playing fields
and
plunge
Into the larger pool of life’s mysteries
To practice their assignments
Staying conscious
Whatever the gloomy forecast
Tying loose ends of the collective laces
So these planetary feet can dance through the eighties
With neat and tidy bows in the realms of love and unity
How amazing
Despite not even knowing your first name
Your soul and mine are inextricably linked
Just a minute – Am I really ready for this? – Where do I begin?
Help – I’ve lost my compass again!
Breathe in
Light Hold steady
Out
Let go Pause Trust
Repeat cycle
Breathe
Several times now
listen
Listen
Pastel impressions softly fluttering within
Lifting me
To stand above my life
See where I’ve been
how I’ve grown
And recall my original purpose for choosing to be here
The new direction is suddenly clear
To be included in the picture
I have only to
unclench my fist
Step one
Release the Findhorn pool
Say thank you and let go of course how silly
Trundling it behind me on the end of a long string of memories
All this time
Let go
The dice roll and
My counter moves
outwards easily freely
lands
Breathlessly on a square with a smiling face
Step two
Welcome
Ahoy there sinking and swimming mates
Hi there running and jumping mates
Yoo hoo all kinds of funny mates
It’s me I’m here I made it just arrived you can count me in
For this round
The dealer smiles and shuffles the deck
And I choose a card that simply says
Step three
Graduation time
It’s your turn to be G O D
To practice freestyle for a while
And stay awake
As you intuit your next move
(by the way congratulations)
Now
One – two – three – G O !
***
Photo Credits: We thank Unsplash for free images and the photographers Eric Tompkins, Stephanie Klepacki, and Studio B.
In addition to facilitating Games I offer spiritual mentoring, one-to-one Soul-Weaving sessions, and Soul Infusions: an online course of prayers, meditations, next step processes and blessings.
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