To my consciously curious Floating Family 🍂
I hope this monthly newsletter finds you healthy and luminous as the sun slowly softens its glow, melting the crisp autumn across our landscape. This month, I want to share a story with you that provoked the deep channels of my heart. I recently heard this story whilst studying the sacred art of connection and the subconscious barriers we unknowingly assemble; disguises and behavioural patterns that we adorn like beautiful tights—buttery soft and barely there, but concealing what lies beneath.
Many years ago in Thailand, a local temple stood proud as the home of an enormous Buddha statue. It was an incredible sculpture of grand scale, and it showed the distinct signs of old age. It was stained and worn from centuries of wild weather but still harboured great reverence from local monks and Buddhists. Eventually, there came a time when the 500-year old relic needed delicate relocating, as the monastery was being moved to another town. As the devoted monks and village locals began the gruelling and laborious work, a young monk noticed a crack in the clay exterior. He was surprised, no doubt, to see a vibrant golden light emanating from within.
Slowly and meticulously, the monks chipped away at the statue. Careful not to mark or destroy it. Lovingly they worked, patient with their chisels until eventually, they revealed a majestic golden Buddha from beneath the centuries of solidified soil. A ten-foot-tall, five and a half tonne statue of pure solid gold! The villagers were utterly stunned and incredulous that such beauty had been concealed for all living memory. They wept in soulful mourning for the tragic loss of opportunities to show their love, worship, and gratitude. How could they have lived in the daily presence of such greatness and never even known it was there?
Hundreds of years prior, local monks were warned against a Burmese army coming to destroy the temple. In a desperate attempt to protect their beloved Buddha, the monks covered the golden statue in mud, hoping the invaders would overlook its true value. But as the monks sadly perished and the years trundled by, their secret was slowly forgotten. So the statue remained swathed in protective clay for centuries, unseen and unappreciated in all its glory.
This story offers a beautiful contemplation of the mud you may be wearing to protect your sacred self. The layers of subconscious clay you develop through years of cultural programming; steadily ingrained and then ultimately forgotten. And eventually, you come to see this clay as who you are. But perhaps, simultaneously, you are a villager from this story, interacting with and passing by others who are also encased in clay? Their golden nature may also be obscured by a long-forgotten protective past.
What if you could practice and chip away at your outer shell with delicate curiosity? What if you could free this golden statue from within and practice awareness of the mud that may be hindering sincere communication? Can you see the hidden nature tucked inside your fellow friends? And can you practice being a patient soul that sees beyond the veil? I would love to hear your thoughts and contemplations on this story. Please feel welcome to share and reply xo
With oceans of love and gratitude, my friends,