“Some Mountains are not meant to be moved”

“Some mountains are not meant to be moved”

By James Anthony Curtis

It’s been well over a year now living on the road, since the sale of the land, house, and most of my property. When things began to shift back in 2014, I was married, we had just purchased 24 acres with a small home and garage, there was an abundance of friends, family, wealth and health in many aspects of life. But the universe has a way of bringing things to our attention, things that we are not willing to look at readily, places within us that wait for the timing of perfection to reach its tipping point, and once the doors to these places are opened, a flood of changes burst through unraveling our reality with divine precision. My relationships, faith, and emotional stability were utterly cast to the wind for the current of uncertainty to take me. Reflecting back now, seeing that poor soul writhing in agonizing tears day after day on the floor, experiencing such loss, aloneness, and in complete despair – a derelict of society – there are times I go back and sit with him in his feelings, placing my hand upon his shoulder, gently whispering in his ear, “you are loved, it will all work out.”

We may do our best to succeed in our endeavors, forming relationships with friends and family, developing our skills, and moving upon the earth with grace as best we can, but the most purposeful ‘things’ we can give our love and attention to are those places which call to us that often we are unwilling to hear. Frequently they bring with them the pain of uncomfortable circumstances, feelings that we may wish to avoid, and the loneliness of deep abiding, which is in part what we have come for to offer loving compassion. Although we are never alone, at times it is necessary for our growth, a ‘construct,’ and a tool, that serves only to take us further inward in transformational power, which allows a depth of connection across any perceived border or boundary of who we truly are. Paradoxically the time we spend with ourselves opens our vision for expansion by the love we offer, and as we grow we will experience the loss of our egoic constructs, but in turn there is a multitude of wholeness that embraces our soul. In a sense, we lose a reality that may have appeared to hold and comfort us for years, but was based in illusion, and as it unravels we find the truth of who we are, and a much larger reality to stand on, even though grounded in the faith of losing ourselves to uncertainty.

The feelings we feel through our experiences shadow in comparison to the larger part of our self moving behind the scenes. Not that they are devalued by any means, but rather take on a much higher vibration in light as they become known as agents of our spiritual evolution working in concert with the universe for what we truly desire.

Sitting at the base of the Superstition Mountains, at our new home for the next month or so, there is an unmistakable newness to life, where even in the ache of growth, if we allow ourselves to abide with ourselves in what we feel, providing space for the heart, underneath there is always a rock of peace we may anchor to in what we feel. Comfort comes not from the certainties we may attempt to find in life, but rather from the uncertainties we have found in the faith of love. Underneath our insecurities, fears, and doubts that may arise sometimes, which are only asking for the love we are all deserving of, there is a path to be found, often the less traveled pilgrim’s road, in the uncertainty of the wind, and unpredictability of love.

Today may we find the treasures of our heart, through the ‘openings’ of space loss has provided for us. May we feel deeper, underneath the layers of our emotion, as we abide with what is calling out to us to be heard, seen, and loved for the benefit of all beings. May we find the doors, and answer the one who is knocking, that heaven may come forth in our time as all is revealed.

May it be so, so it is.

“The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” John 3:8

“The Ghosts of Gunfighters: Tombstone, Arizona”

“The Ghosts of Gunfighters: Tombstone, Arizona”

By James Anthony Curtis

As someone who grew up playing outdoors when I was a kid, with no cell phones, computers, or video games to occupy the mind, the imagination was free to roam in the backwoods of Pennsylvania as far as it was allowed to move us.

Frequently my best friend and I would ‘pretend,’ creating various adventures from Saturday morning tv shows, or books we had read. Although we tended to find ourselves on other planets, or fighting for our lives on this one in some post apocalyptic drama, westerns were always a cornerstone in theme of the old cinematic world of showdowns we conceived. Gunfights, or the ‘high noon’ square-off, has always been one of my favorites, and even though it has been embellished over the years by Hollywood, the one difference in the tale of Tombstone, Arizona is it was not “pretend,” but very real in the events that unfolded in 1881’.

As we walk the very streets where Wyatt Earp, the Earp brothers, Doc Holiday and “The Cowboys” lived and breathed, there is a sense of a time when men were hardened by their truths, struggling to survive in them, placing a high value on the pride of life as it was felt by them. One look perceived as threatening could send another man sideways, and in the old west where justice was served from the hip, any movement towards the handle which dispensed it, almost certainly meant death or close to it. Tombstone was not unique in this environment, Dodge City, El Paso, Lincoln, San Antonio and others also were rampant with old west justice, but many of the other gunfighting towns never reached the fame that the O.K. Corral did.

You might think Wyatt and his brothers were famous beforehand, or the cowboy faction they were at odds with had some national news, and although the territory was under distress from the lawlessness, not many people had heard of a place called Tombstone until that fated day of the gunfight. Why? A little known fact besides Tombstone being a very wealthy mining town, silver had transformed the little town, bringing it some modern advances like the ‘telephone.’ Moments after the fatal shooting took place the confrontation was being transmitted across the country, and overnight, the Earps, Doc Holiday, the ‘Cowboys,’ and Tombstone would become famous.

Walking the streets of Tombstone today you will find yourself immersed in a fun loving crowd of actors, shop owners, and tourists who have a curious passion for the mystery of the old west. People who wonder at a time of legends, and a hardened yet fulfilling existence, where words spoken were enforced by bullets, and attention to detail might save one’s life. Although we live in different times, as a species we still crave this edge, its in our mythos of humanity, the story of the ‘hero’s journey,’ and the ‘villains’ of our darkness that accompany us. We need fulfillment, adventure, and challenges, to explore the depths of what it means to be alive. And when we hear of such stories, or another time where such took place, we question ourselves, curiosity coming to the surface, and we open our heart to greater potential of what life paths we are walking.

It’s in our nature to strive for the ‘better,’ gazing in reflection on how we may ‘improve.’ But sometimes its not as difficult as it may seem. Watch any child pretending, playing by themselves or with others, and you will glimpse the world we have come here to explore in our innocence. A virtual playground of imagination raised up in the dust of bodies, all that we may feel, express, and experience ourselves more deeply.

So as today unfolds, let us remember to live as we have come here to be, feeling all that we feel, meeting life wherever we are at, setting out with our imaginations of different times, places, and cultures that might challenge desires once asleep in us. And when we hear of stories from a time past, or wonder how others might live, if it sparks something in us, let us fan the flame of our divinity, without judgement or opinion, but meeting our own hero’s journey with all the innocence of the heart.

May it be so, so it is.????