the sunken cathedral

three weeks ago i attended a workshop at prado on the 12 Senses.

Cha played this Debussy piece on the piano and told us the story behind it.

i can't remember it exactly, and when i google it, the legend of Ys comes up.

the story i remember from the workshop is different.

there was a very unique cathedral, situated in a town, near the sea.
and at the same time of day, everyday, it rises up out of the water.
and at the end of the day, everyday, it sinks back down into the water.
for whatever reason, it does this.

the cathedral is beautiful.
and ornate.
and catches the light.
it is an integral part of the community.

as Cha and Reimon told the story, i drifted off into my own thoughts and imagination. Cha began to play and when i heard this haunting piece of music, i was lost in another world.

in my mind's eye, i saw this cathedral rise up, up, up out of the water.
saw how the water gave way, spilled out of the door, high windows, and belltower.
and the fish always knew when to scatter.
heard the underwater scraping noise as the bedrock groaned, as once again, it made this journey upwards.

i saw a small brown girl who loved this place.
her parents were charged with its upkeep.
and everyday, her father and mother would go to the place were the cathedral would rise and patiently wait.
when it had risen, her parents would meticulously clean and dry all of the pews, paying special attention to the alter.
the floors must be dried.
any errant seaweed would be removed.
any sea creatures hidden in the corners, would be tossed back into the sea.
as an infant, the girl was strapped to her mother's back, as her mother arranged the alter cloth.

as a toddler, she would sit on the pew that was dried first by her father.
everyday, she would be allowed to pick which one would be first.
she would ask her father questions about birds and fishes, while he worked.
her chubby legs would swing to and fro as she prattled on with her questions.
when she sensed her father was tired of her asking and asking, she entertained herself by singing songs about rocks that she would make up on the spot. or would think of the flowers they passed in the morning. or would lay down for a nap, as it was so early that they had to wake up every morning. the saltwater had long worn away the varnish on the wooden pew. the waterlogged wood was swollen, yet smooth. and it smelled like the sea.

the townspeople knew to wait until both doors were opened wide before they could enter to pray.
and as soon as the girl was strong enough to push them open, this was her job.

there was no priest or preacher.
and there hadn't been one in a very long time.
the townspeople got along without one.

for whatever reason, the girl does not accompany her parents to prepare the cathedral for it's daily sinking.
and she has many questions as to why the cathedral rose and sunk everyday.
she asked her parents.
she asked her neighbors.
she asked the elders.
none of their answers satisfied her.

she loved the cathedral so much.
it was so beautiful
and so special to her.
she was in awe of its ability to rise and fall, every single day.
she wanted to know what happened to it after it sunk.

where did it go?
why did it go?
was is lonely?
did it miss her?
does it have to sink everyday?
will there ever be a time when it will not rise again?

no one could answer these questions.

so, the girl stole away from her parents, one early evening, just before the cathedral was to return to the depths of the sea.
everyday, her parents would make sure that everyone was cleared out at least one hour before the sinking.
all the linens were folded neatly and taken out.
candles were extinguished.
the pews were put together and secured.
the doors were locked tight.

but the girl had taken the key from her father's pocket when he wasn't looking.
she unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open.
she closed it again.
the cathedral was dark.
she was not used to seeing it so dark.

when the sinking began, she didn't notice it right away.
she was softly singing to herself, and it happened so slowly.
she was sitting on her favorite pew, and it started to float.
the girl was fascinated.
finally, she would be able to stay with her cathedral and see what happened to it after it sunk.

and then she was scared.
she had realized the enormity of what she had done.
and she tried to unlock the door and get out.
but she couldn't.
she died by drowning.

i remember the shock i felt when i "woke up" from my hazy vision.
i was so disturbed by it.
was wondering where on earth did this come from?
what a story...
her death saddened me so.
it stirred up so many feelings in me.
felt so protective over her.
and bewildered.
could actually feel her panic as the doors would not open.
felt so badly for her parents, for the townspeople.
could imagine their guilt and profound grief.

then i came to another startling realization.
many lifetimes ago, i was that little girl.

there's a lot here.
this vision says a lot about letting go.
and letting go.
and letting go.
and letting go.
and trust.
and trust.
and trust.
and trust.
and communication.
and love.
and Love.
and teaching.
and learning.
and the importance of seeing how things begin...
and how they end.
appreciating the cycle.

with my death as this little girl, i started on this journey of Awakening.
each subsequent lifetime brings me closer and closer to just that.
i have chosen each time the circumstances to be born into, with the intention of furthering me along.

it is in this lifetime that i will finally wake up.