Mandala of a Latter-Day Saint By Reid Baer I left in sufficient time to make a sacrament meeting in a strange community with a scratch piece of paper, an address, and simple directions. IâÂÂm driving with a head full of internecine dreams and a bottle of cool water in my lap along with scriptures and Carl JungâÂÂs words accompanying me in the passenger seat working me relentlessly stirring ideas and images about archetypes and undercurrents and the solemnities of the eternities moving toward their own destinations with a will sometimes beyond myself yet within myself â but through it all I went much too far one way and ended up in Winston-Salem then back East again to Greensboro and North along Freeman Mill Road. I was sure this was the right place if the signs serve me correctly - right down the road - itâÂÂs just not here! I must admit IâÂÂm lost and late, bemused, befuddled, alone, trying ⦠reminding myself to breathe and breathe again ⦠breathe! So, IâÂÂm heading South now doing my deep personal work sitting in distress sweating down my neck and back ready for a colossal panic attack if I want one today or maybe IâÂÂll pass - let a little peace run through me - and choose to roam through the Carolinas without a definitive agenda perfectly okay with spending gas and time ⦠thereâÂÂs plenty of time ⦠patiently creating my time ⦠to ride around in circles making a mandala inexorably making a mandala before returning to God - my welcome home. -
