Friday Morning, Centro de Salud

This journey then, is nothing more, yet nothing less than a period of acclimating to a new way of seeing, a time of transition and revelation as it gradually comes upon “that” which remains when there is no self. This is not a journey for those who expect love and bliss, rather, it is for the hardy who have been tried by fire and have come to rest in a tough, immovable trust in “that” which lies beyond the known, beyond the self, beyond union, and even beyond love and trust itself.


– Bernadette Roberts


Friday morning. Eight o’clock. I stand in line at Centro de Salud waiting to register to see a doctor. A young pregnant woman standing in front of me – full belly hanging out from a pink tank-top and fleece jacket – turns, looks me in the eye and smiles. I smile back. I invoke a silent blessing for her and her baby. The line shortens quickly, efficiently. I register my name and the name of my barrio. Neuralgia, dolor severo, I respond when asked the reason for my visit. I am told to wait until a space opens for a consulta with a doctor. I find an open seat. I sit. I wait. I use this time to breathe, to give gratitude to Spirit, to observe the hundreds of poor Mexicans waiting with me in this Center of Health. There are at least thirty pregnant girls waiting, some holding their latest birth against milk-laden breast while another life awaits its birth inside the womb. Some children are being weighed and measured on scales, while other children curiously look my way and wonder about the white-skinned man with ice-blue eyes and white beard – something they have not seen on the rancho. I observe the many abuelitas and viejitos as they await their visit with a doctor. Simply observing, mind quiet – my heart stirs, my heart opens, tears erupt uncontrollably. I let them. I look around and become aware of so much life energy around me. Pregnant women, children, mothers holding babies, grandmothers and grandfathers humbly holding life’s wisdom. I am overwhelmed with love. My tears won’t cease. I won’t let them. They are pure. I close my eyes. I see my angels, clearly, in front of me, comforting this lone wolf. Eyes closed, I slowly turn my head from side-to-side and see angels all throughout this place. My tears are now a stream – a river – flowing through this land of brown-skinned souls and their angels. I invoke ancient prayers of blessing on behalf of every person within this place – this center of health, of life, of souls. I open my eyes. A small boy stands in front of me, calmly looking into my eyes. Tears flowing, I smile. Through our eyes, I silently connect with his soul and bless him. He smiles, head cocked to one side, eyes maintaining our connection. He knows something profound in this moment, but, cannot express it in words to his mother who stands holding his hand while she looks away. The doctor calls my name. I glance at my phone. I have been waiting four hours. I feel that I have only been waiting ten minutes at the most. Though my body is seated, my mind has drifted into the realm of Spirit. I have lost track of time while entering that profound dimension where angels and spirit guides comfort, direct, protect, and heal. Where there is only One. The source of all love, all life, all compassion. I walk out of Centro de Salud, now trusting the “that” which lies beyond this wolf, beyond the known, beyond even love and trust itself.