The Camels are Coming.
By Robin Gould, D.R.E., LMFT
It's been a while since I've sent anything out. A needed dormancy overshadowed my abilities to go about in "business as usual." A quiet chapter was written with fear and trembling. The mask cracks, and piece by piece falls to a ready ground. In this journey, the Torah portions have been my oxygen. I can almost smell the dirt the Patriarchs turned over as they dug wells. I practically feel the dust stirred up from the roads they travelled on my own skin. From one day to the next, I wonder what I will encounter, eager to practice anchoring. I've had many half blogs simmering, but nothing formed to a sharable narrative. A hesitant hand reaches out and seeking eyes hope to find you well.
As Isaac sat in the field meditating and listening, so have I accommodated what stillness demands. Silence. I've been identifying with the middle Patriarch and trying to be fluid, flexible, and trusting. I wouldn't say that has been an area of mastery for me in the past, but perhaps due to this season, I am unearthing the part of me planted by the Father that can wait, have restraint, and stand by.
While I see what might be some camels approaching in the distance, the reminder is that the mission to turn the wheels of my destiny continues on and that Eliezer is always successful when his will is to glorify the master. Even when the field exists amid carnage and confusion, the camels will always eventually come. Watered and laden with precisely what I need, they slowly advance toward me, barely distinguishable but definitely there and moving closer.
To my left is the task of relocating, which we are planning. The doorway to a new level of compassion is to my right, and I have diligently picked the lock. The refreshing that has come from that entrance has been nothing short of astoundingly transformative. It's better to be kind than right. If you can't explain it, don't keep trying. Wait, and the winds of healing will blow across any field if you have opened this door of courage. The pressure of the false expectations of others will lift. The boundaries you need to set will not seem like an impossible undertaking but more of an assignment to guide others to recognize where your field begins and theirs ends.
In this autumn, the landscape will change. It's okay. Make the changes you must make to be anchored and steadfast. As everything that can be shaken has been shaken, you can remain firm and not shift with fear. In many ways, we won't recognize ourselves for a bit as we grow. The false self is forged in defense, whereas the true self emerges when we shed the sword of power struggles with others. The Father goes before us.
So, that's it. Something in the distance that I know is good moves toward me in this season of questions and suspension. I'm free to wait, not trapped in the unknown. The field is not a prison devoid of His presence. It is His lap where we sit, feeling His heartbeat, knowing that His arms are our shield.
This might seem trite, but don't just endure. Adjust. Enjoy the field. Feel the bones of the earth. Lift your eyes. Breathe deeply. Prevail.
The camels are coming.