Until recently, I wasn't really one for frequent consultation with my guides. Oh sure, when I needed something, I knew how to ask.  But something held me back.  I thought I should be doing this stuff on my own, and that asking was a sign of weakness somehow.

I even — dare I mention this? — ignored advice from my guides.  Not just once or twice, but A LOT.

I think we all do.

On the Earth plane, in bodies, there's the perception that we're separate.  We can't help that; it's just part of life as we perceive it.  Nothing wrong with that.  So the idea of giving up control to something unseen seems sort of alien to us.  I always used to envy religious people who had a lot of faith, because, I reasoned, at least they believed that there was some higher Something that woud take care of them.  For all my gifts and abilities (and I always have spoken frequently to Polaris, just not so much my guides), I felt alone.

Not any more.

This is day 5 of my fast for Darfur.

It all came about last week when I read about Mia Farrow's fast on Causecast (where I'm a contributing writer). I couldn't let go of the idea, and I kept getting messages that fasting was going to benefit me, so last Saturday I began, still not quite knowing where it was going, yet letting my inner guidance help me to where I needed to be.

It's been an amazing journey.

Every day I've been walking in the forest near my home, spending that quiet hour with my guides, my higher self (essence), and nature, walking and listening.  One of the main things I'm taking from this is a huge validation of something Polaris says:

About three years ago I had a crushing realization. Up to that point, I had been harboring the expectation that someday this would all get easier — that I'd wake up one morning and feel complete and that whatever lifelong issues I had been carrying with me would be dealt with, laid to rest, at peace. I'd be done.

Ha.

(I think sometimes the universe laughs at us.)

It was a huge blow. At first I was totally crushed, and THEN I got angry. How DARE I sign up for this stupid painful life adventure, KNOWING that this would happen and that I would.never.be.done?  What had I gotten myself into?

Of course I see the humor in this now.  Most days.

But it's an interesting thing ... to realize that this dance is never over — that there's always more or another layer or a slightly different perspective — can be hugely empowering. "You mean we're never DONE? We get endless do-overs?"  That's exactly what I mean.  Knowing that whatever issue you THINK you just laid to rest is going to come back and bite you in the you-know-what sometime later just lets you bring out the playful aspect the next time, or at least lets you open the door to it.  And any time you can start thinking of life as PLAY instead of as WORK, it opens the way to new insights, and of course, to more joy.

We really are here to learn through joy.

It's a lot like the Buddhist concept of annica, or impermanence.  In other words, everything changes.  You can look at this several different ways.  When I am feeling totally immersed in pain, I remember annica, everything changes, and I know the pain will dissipate.  Eventually.  When I am feeling an old issue coming on, I remember annica, everything changes, and I know the issue will look and feel different this time, because I am not the same person as I was the last time, not exactly the same, and that my perceptions have changed ever so slightly and so this will be a different experience.  That realization allows me to be more open to possibilities rather than fearing what will come.

(Buddhism also teaches us to remember annica when we are feeling joy or pleasure, so that we do not develop cravings for that pleasure by remaining attached to the feeling, but I have trouble with this one ... I LIKE pleasure ...)

Revisiting the concept that 'we are never done' allows you to start to consider the question, 'where am I going?' which to my mind is a far more interesting question to consider than 'when will I be done?'  Thinking about where you are going from here invites to you think about where 'here' actually is.  And it also invites you to look more deeply into who you are. Which in turn helps you forget to focus on where you are going, but instead to enjoy simply being where you are.

As they say, it's not the destination; it's the journey.  And the journey of being 'never done' truly can be a joyful one.  After all, if you were ever done, would you still be 'here'?