“Your fidelity to love, that is all you need. No day can then match your strength.”—Hafiz

I open the email from the Santa Fe District Court, and suddenly my heart starts pounding and my palms grow moist. As morning sun peeks into my office I read the summons to a hearing about our community well. Incredulous, I learn that after winning twice in court against this neighbor Dee who refuses to pay her bills, we are again to face a judge.

Dee is asking for a retrial.

I call on the Beloved.

Standing, I pace around my living room and kitchen. I locate the papers Dee filed with the court, and, calling on the Beloved once again, sit down to read. Her claims are wild, alleging that our well association siphoned water from her line, poisoned her pets by putting bacteria into her pipes, and that our bank account is illegal. As I read I sense her emotionalism. It is so strong it is palpable, as obvious as the table on which these papers rest. It is a wildly charged energy, full of paranoia.

I know this vibration—I have spent plenty of time in it, not as extreme as this, but definitely with similar resonance. I sense the Beloved wants me to see it, understand it and release it.

When I finish reading the complaint, I pace around my kitchen. My mind wants to react, to defend our well association’s position, to refute Dee’s claims! Instead I sit down and pick up some spiritual reading. Slowly as I digest the truths, my heart calms. I hear the quiet of my house here in the country and of my inner self. By the time I finish I’m able to go about my day knowing I will be guided.

I write to our attorney to ask what action we need to take. In the email I do my best to remain neutral.

A week passes and I don’t hear back from him. With the hearing only a few days away, my mind begins to panic. A winter storm moves in, turning the air frigid and covering the ground with snow. My mood matches the gray sky. I call the attorney’s office, and the receptionist says he has scheduled the hearing, but is unavailable to talk.

Is he prepared to refute these claims, I wonder? I have no way of knowing, so I decide to do my best to refute them myself. I climb down inside the well house to take pictures to show we haven’t replumbed it, as Dee claims, but I see that it has been changed. Recently one well member had a leak in his line, so minor changes were made. A photograph, I realize, won’t help.

I consider ways to refute the claim that we poisoned Dee’s line, but come up with nothing, and all I have to show the validity of our bank account is a deposit slip. When I realize there is nothing I can do, I want to scream!

If Dee wins the ruling, it will mean starting over for us. The weeks of preparation, two full days in court and tens of thousands of dollars each of us has spent would have to happen again.

I have no option but to sit in my chair and do a spiritual practice. I take a few deep breaths and read about problem solving. My Beloved teacher outlines a very simple plan, and slowly as it takes form within me, I realize this is true creating. Once one has no options left, she must turn inward and create from the third eye.

In this act I am altering the cause of this experience. The seed of all creation germinates on the inner, and the solution happens in the now. I forget the past and future. My energy centers and I let go of this dilemma.

It matters not whether our well association wins or loses this hearing. I am free of it right now! I trust that the Beloved brings me whatever I need in any moment. If we are to go another round in court, then that is the loving lesson I most need, and so I welcome it.

Rather than diving into the trenches with Dee and fighting over the illusory details, my job is to stay centered in the love and let the conditions of the material world be. Suddenly, I feel light, as though spring daffodils have blossomed in my heart.

The next morning our attorney calls. He apologizes for not getting in touch sooner. He says that this case will be easy, a no-contest. I assume he knows, but still in the night my sleep is a bit restless.

The next morning dawns with the storm moving out, dark clouds pushing past the mountains. I meet the attorney in a waiting area near the courtroom where we sit and talk and laugh about our lives. He tells me that his new house recently flooded with sewage, and I talk of my recent cross-country ski adventure.

Dee arrives, serious and exuding anger. She wears high-heeled boots and a mini-skirt. We all enter the courtroom. It is as I remembered from our hearing last fall, large with high ceilings, redwood furnishings and video screens perched on all the tables. The judge’s bench stands above it all.

Our attorney whispers to me that the hearing will be brief as the judge asks a few questions and sets down his ruling.

Dee’s attorney starts. He presents yet more accusations. I sit calmly and listen, calling constantly on the Beloved. My mind wants to argue back, to deny the assertions, but I calm it with the love of my mantra. The judge asks for clarification on a few points, and Dee’s attorney gives them.

Our attorney stands at the podium and does something remarkable. He doesn’t argue against her accusations. Instead he argues the law. He says Dee’s complaint does not meet the requirements of the court to grant a retrial. He sits down.

A moment of silence follows as the judge collects his thoughts. In this pause I wonder—shouldn’t our attorney argue against Dee’s claims?

The judge clears his throat, looks out at us. “I am denying the motion for retrial,” he says.

I sigh with relief, and our attorney smiles at me. In this moment I see the truth. What happened in this courtroom is exactly what happened in my consciousness over the past few days. In the same way that our attorney rose above the argument, I relinquished arguing with the mind and instead rose above the duality of winning and losing.

Thus I found peace. In this dual world, this is how one solves problems. I surrender my will and recognize that all is love, all is here to help me ascend into my highest self. When I know this, I am free right here, right now.

And that attitude creates my forever-spring world.

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Image by Diane Hart Tuck, shot in Redington, AZ