Last night I met with Rumi. I met him in that field he talked about, you know the one – that place that is beyond judgment and acceptance, beyond right and wrong.
The field came to me at night, and woke me from my sleep. Between waking and dreaming, I recognized it immediately, as I struggled to find my words.
This field transcends right and wrong. It is simultaneously higher than, and fully merged with, the human condition. It gives the impression that it is above, way above. But like different layers of a cake, it’s not separate; it’s all part of one thing. From the field, you can sort of look down and see everyone right there below.
Timeless and weightless, being in this field feels sort of like being suspended in honey. Visually it’s translucent, and kind of thick and gooey. These places always seem to have a slight yellow tinge to them.
In this place, the love is so strong, and the power so great, that it doesn’t waste time or energy on judgments. Judgments, labels, and the struggle to accept the unacceptable are silly here. Good and evil irrelevantly cancel each other out. It is love beyond those things; it has no concern for them. The love is so deep, so unconditional, so unilateral, that everything is perfect. Everyone is perfect. It doesn’t matter what they are. It doesn’t matter what they do, or fail to do. It loves wholly and completely, without question. It loves solidly, without a fluttering of doubt. It loves always, because it is one with everything there is.
I only got to stay for a moment. And as it was fading away, it left me with a single thought: “This is oneness.”
As promised, here’s some more on Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill.
The book is a very ambitious effort, which is executed brilliantly and beautifully. Referencing the accounts, writings, and legends of famous Christian mystics, Underhill tries to bring some logical or orderly sense to the mystical process. There is a sort of lyrical quality to her writing, and a humble genius in her reasoning and exposition. The subject matter isn’t really something that lends itself to any definite or rigid bounds. The expression “the herding of cats” comes to mind. But Underhill displays incredible artistry and mastery in assembling these ill-fitting puzzle pieces.
Originally published in 1911, it is considered by many to be a classic in its field.
She opens the book with the following:
The most highly developed branches of the human family have in common one peculiar characteristic. They tend to produce—sporadically it is true, and often in the teeth of adverse external circumstances—a curious and definite type of personality; a type which refuses to be satisfied with that which other men call experience, and is inclined, in the words of its enemies, to “deny the world in order that it may find reality.” We meet these persons in the east and the west; in the ancient, mediaeval, and modern worlds. Their one passion appears to be the prosecution of a certain spiritual and intangible quest: the finding of a “way out” or a “way back” to some desirable state in which alone they can satisfy their craving for absolute truth. This quest, for them, has constituted the whole meaning of life. They have made for it without effort sacrifices which have appeared enormous to other men: and it is an indirect testimony to its objective actuality, that whatever the place or period in which they have arisen, their aims, doctrines and methods have been substantially the same. Their experience, therefore, forms a body of evidence, curiously self-consistent and often mutually explanatory, which must be taken into account…
Hence, they should claim from us the same attention that we give to other explorers of countries in which we are not competent to adventure ourselves; for the mystics are the pioneers of the spiritual world, and we have no right to deny validity to their discoveries, merely because we lack the opportunity or the courage necessary to those who would prosecute such explorations for themselves.
Then after some explorations of the intersections of mysticism, philosophy, psychology, and theology, we get to the good stuff. Underhill sets out five general stages, or markers, that frame the mystical journey. A lot of these (the first three primarily) will be familiar to modern day spiritual travelers.
(1) The awakening of the Self to consciousness of Divine Reality. This experience, usually abrupt and well-marked, is accompanied by intense feelings of joy and exaltation.
(2) The Self, aware for the first time of Divine Beauty, realizes by contrast its own finiteness and imperfection, the manifold illusions in which it is immersed, the immense distance which separates it from the One. Its attempts to eliminate by discipline and mortification all that stands in the way of its progress towards union with God constitute Purgation: a state of pain and effort.
(3) When by Purgation the Self has become detached from the “things of sense,” and acquired those virtues which are the “ornaments of the spiritual marriage,” its joyful consciousness of the Transcendent Order returns in an enhanced form. Like the prisoners in Plato’s “Cave of Illusion,” it has awakened to knowledge of Reality, has struggled up the harsh and difficult path to the mouth of the cave. Now it looks upon the sun. This is Illumination: a state which includes in itself many of the stages of contemplation, “degrees of orison,” visions and adventures of the soul described by St. Teresa and other mystical writers. These form, as it were, a way within the Way: a moyen de parvenir, a training devised by experts which will strengthen and assist the mounting soul. They stand, so to speak, for education; whilst the Way proper represents organic growth. Illumination is the “contemplative state” par excellence. It forms, with the two preceding states, the “first mystic life.” Many mystics never go beyond it; and, on the other hand, many seers and artists not usually classed amongst them, have shared, to some extent, the experiences of the illuminated state. Illumination brings a certain apprehension of the Absolute, a sense of the Divine Presence: but not true union with it. It is a state of happiness.
(4) In the development of the great and strenuous seekers after God, this is followed—or sometimes intermittently accompanied—by the most terrible of all the experiences of the Mystic Way: the final and complete purification of the Self, which is called by some contemplatives the “mystic pain” or “mystic death,” by others the Purification of the Spirit or Dark Night of the Soul. The consciousness which had, in Illumination, sunned itself in the sense of the Divine Presence, now suffers under an equally intense sense of the Divine Absence: learning to dissociate the personal satisfaction of mystical vision from the reality of mystical life. As in Purgation the senses were cleansed and humbled, and the energies and interests of the Self were concentrated upon transcendental things: so now the purifying process is extended to the very centre of I-hood, the will. The human instinct for personal happiness must be killed. This is the “spiritual crucifixion” so often described by the mystics: the great desolation in which the soul seems abandoned by the Divine. The Self now surrenders itself, its individuality, and its will, completely. It desires nothing, asks nothing, is utterly passive, and is thus prepared for
(5) Union: the true goal of the mystic quest. In this state the Absolute Life is not merely perceived and enjoyed by the Self, as in Illumination: but is one with it. This is the end towards which all the previous oscillations of consciousness have tended. It is a state of equilibrium, of purely spiritual life; characterized by peaceful joy, by enhanced powers, by intense certitude. To call this state, as some authorities do, by the name of Ecstasy, is inaccurate and confusing: since the term Ecstasy has long been used both by psychologists and ascetic writers to define that short and rapturous trance—a state with well-marked physical and psychical accompaniments—in which the contemplative, losing all consciousness of the phenomenal world, is caught up to a brief and immediate enjoyment of the Divine Vision. Ecstasies of this kind are often experienced by the mystic in Illumination, or even on his first conversion. They cannot therefore be regarded as exclusively characteristic of the Unitive Way. In some of the greatest mystics—St. Teresa is an example—the ecstatic trance seems to diminish rather than increase in frequency after the state of union has been attained: whilst others achieve the heights by a path which leaves on one side all abnormal phenomena.
Because each individual person is unique, so too are the mystical experiences and openings.
They are very heavily influenced by the individual person’s subconscious belief system, and his egoic patterns (his level of discipline and ability to self-motivate, his relationship to emotional pain and suffering, his resilience, courage and fortitude, his capacity for surrender vs resistance, and how he relates to authority, etc). Underlying religious beliefs also play a huge role in what a mystic will see or experience. (This is why the purgation of the spirit, the subject of my last post, step four in Underhill’s outline, is so important. Until all of these things are cleared out fully, one can’t be sure if he’s really seeing ultimate reality, or just a projection of his own mind.)
The journeys don’t necessarily follow any specific sequence. Some stages occur simultaneously, some go back and forth. The length, depth, and severity of the different stages varies enormously. One of the most often cited determining factors is each individual soul’s life plan – it is either destined for specific levels or it’s not. They either come by Grace, or they don’t. It’s not really negotiable.
It’s also really really hard to pin things down and label them. Often because the experiences can’t be articulated with words (they happen in a section of consciousness that doesn’t involve language), and the descriptions are so subjective, that being one and the same, two different accounts don’t seem to resemble each other at all. It takes a certain level of experience to understand what you’re seeing and to assemble these things together.
It’s human nature to want to know where one is on the path; to judge himself, or to know if he’s succeeding or failing. But it’s the nature of the spiritual path to be extremely murky without any solid roadmaps. It’s about getting comfortable with being lost. The entire point is to learn how to walk, one step at a time, without a plan, and without judging the progress. It is a development of faith and trust in intuitive guidance, moment by moment, while learning to let go and surrender in the present. This is a lot harder than it sounds. It took me several years to really develop this ability, and I still struggle with it on occasion.
The rest of the book then goes on to expound on these different stages. (I’m still only about half way through it – it’s too dense to get through quickly). If there’s any more stuff worth sharing later I’ll do another post.
For further reading, the book is available here for free.
After months of darkness without any sense of guidance, I have finally come across a most comforting piece of mystical literature: Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross. It shouldn’t be comforting; it’s rather horrifying reading. But I’m comforted to find it. (There’s also a tiny bit too much religious emphasis for my taste, but he is a Christian mystic, so naturally that will be his framework).
For all of this time I’ve been operating on faith and intuition alone; trusting the inner knowing that kept telling me it’s all ok. And just now, when I feel most exhausted (the last two days have been really difficult), I am synchronistically lead to this book.
It turns out that everything I’ve been going through is perfectly “normal,” as these things go on the mystic path. It is in fact a blessing, if one cares to see it that way.
Lots of spiritual seekers go through a Dark Night experience (sometimes multiple times). St. John distinguishes this common “purgation of the senses,” in all its permutations, from what I’m going through (which is a much rarer and more advanced stage of development) called “purgation of the spirit.” It can last for a long time, but it’s said to be the precursor to Divine union (the final stage of mystical development).
It is a small, but much needed, feeling of relief to find some ground and context for this process. Every time I find writing like this, which resonate so deeply, tears come flooding out from the depths of my soul.
Below are some of the excerpts from the book describing this Purgation of Spirit.
It’s probably important to note here that these thoughts and feelings arise from deep deep within. And no amount of will power or control has any effect on them. Meaning, you can’t just think happy thoughts and feel better. None of the spiritual or meditative practices work. Even witness or observer consciousness works only in short bursts. The weight of this is deeper and heavier than any form of depression I’ve ever experienced. It turns you inside out, and there’s nowhere to turn, and no way to make it stop.
The only way through it is with ever-deepening surrender, constant awareness/inquiry work, and wisdom (which are the healing techniques I mentioned a few posts ago). With the proper spiritual training, watching this unfold within, you can see its logic and design. There is a definite pattern and progression, and the results can be profoundly felt. There is a truly divinely magnificent intelligence at work.
It took me a while to stop freaking out and trust it. Then the deeper understanding emerged and I got the hang of it. Now it’s just a matter of getting through it.
THIS dark night is an inflowing of God into the soul, which purges it from its ignorances and imperfections, habitual natural and spiritual, and which is called by contemplatives infused contemplation, or mystical theology. Herein God secretly teaches the soul and instructs it in perfection of love without its doing anything, or understanding of what manner is this infused contemplation. Inasmuch as it is the loving wisdom of God, God produces striking effects in the soul for, by purging and illumining it, He prepares it for the union of love with God. Book 2 Chp. 5
[B]ecause the light and wisdom of this contemplation is most bright and pure, and the soul which it assails is dark and impure, it follows that the soul suffers great pain when it receives it in itself,… And when the soul suffers the direct assault of this Divine light, its pain, which results from its impurity, is immense; because, when this pure light assails the soul, in order to expel its impurity, the soul feels itself to be so impure and miserable that it believes God to be against it, and thinks that it has set itself up against God. This causes it sore grief and pain, because it now believes that God has cast it away… For, by means of this pure light, the soul now sees its impurity clearly (although darkly), and knows clearly that it is unworthy of God or of any creature. And what gives it most pain is that it thinks that it will never be worthy and that its good things are all over for it. This is caused by the profound immersion of its spirit in the knowledge and realization of its evils and miseries; for this Divine and dark light now reveals them all to the eye, that it may see clearly how in its own strength it can never have aught else. Book 2 Chp. 5
[Another] way in which the soul suffers pain is by reason of its weakness, natural, moral and spiritual; for, when this Divine contemplation assails the soul with a certain force, in order to strengthen it and subdue it, it suffers such pain in its weakness that it nearly swoons away. This is especially so at certain times when it is assailed with somewhat greater force; for sense and spirit, as if beneath some immense and dark load, are in such great pain and agony that the soul would find advantage and relief in death. Book 2 Chp. 5
Beneath the power of this oppression and weight the soul feels itself so far from being favoured that it thinks, and correctly so, that even that wherein it was wont to find some help has vanished with everything else, and that there is none who has pity upon it. Book 2 Chp. 5
THE third kind of suffering and pain that the soul endures in this state results from the fact that two other extremes meet here in one, namely, the Divine and the human. The Divine is this purgative contemplation, and the human is the subject—that is, the soul. The Divine assails the soul in order to renew it and thus to make it Divine; and, stripping it of the habitual affections and attachments of the old man, to which it is very closely united, knit together and conformed, destroys and consumes its spiritual substance, and absorbs it in deep and profound darkness. As a result of this, the soul feels itself to be perishing and melting away, in the presence and sight of its miseries, in a cruel spiritual death, even as if it had been swallowed by a beast and felt itself being devoured in the darkness of its belly, suffering such anguish as was endured by Jonas in the belly of that beast of the sea. For in this sepulchre of dark death it must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for. Book 2 Chp. 6
A description of this suffering and pain, although in truth it transcends all description, is given by David, when he says: ‘The lamentations of death compassed me about; the pains of hell surrounded me; I cried in my tribulation.’ But what the sorrowful soul feels most in this condition is its clear perception, as it thinks, that God has abandoned it, and, in His abhorrence of it, has flung it into darkness; it is a grave and piteous grief for it to believe that God has forsaken it… It feels, too, that all creatures have forsaken it, and that it is contemned by them, particularly by its friends. Book 2 Chp. 6
For indeed, when this purgative contemplation is most severe, the soul feels very keenly the shadow of death and the lamentations of death and the pains of hell, which consist in its feeling itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of Him; and it feels that He is wroth with it. All this is felt by the soul in this condition—yea, and more, for it believes that it is so with it for ever. Book 2 Chp. 6
The fourth kind of pain is caused in the soul by another excellence of this dark contemplation, which is its majesty and greatness, from which arises in the soul a consciousness of the other extreme which is in itself—namely, that of the deepest poverty and wretchedness: this is one of the chiefest pains that it suffers in this purgation. For it feels within itself a profound emptiness and impoverishment of three kinds of good, which are ordained for the pleasure of the soul which are the temporal, the natural and the spiritual; and finds itself set in the midst of the evils contrary to these, namely, miseries of imperfection, aridity and emptiness of the apprehensions of the faculties and abandonment of the spirit in darkness. Inasmuch as God here purges the soul according to the substance of its sense and spirit, and according to the interior and exterior faculties, the soul must needs be in all its parts reduced to a state of emptiness, poverty and abandonment and must be left dry and empty and in darkness. For the sensual part is purified in aridity, the faculties are purified in the emptiness of their perceptions and the spirit is purified in thick darkness. All this God brings to pass by means of this dark contemplation; wherein the soul not only suffers this emptiness and the suspension of these natural supports and perceptions, which is a most afflictive suffering (as if a man were suspended or held in the air so that he could not breathe), but likewise He is purging the soul, annihilating it, emptying it or consuming in it (even as fire consumes the mouldiness and the rust of metal) all the affections and imperfect habits which it has contracted in its whole life. Since these are deeply rooted in the substance of the soul, it is wont to suffer great undoings and inward torment, besides the said poverty and emptiness, natural and spiritual… Book 2 Chp. 6
Wherefore, because the soul is purified in this furnace like gold in a crucible, as says the Wise Man, it is conscious of this complete undoing of itself in its very substance, together with the direst poverty, wherein it is, as it were, nearing its end, … Here God greatly humbles the soul in order that He may afterwards greatly exalt it; and if He ordained not that, when these feelings arise within the soul, they should speedily be stilled, it would die in a very short space; but there are only occasional periods when it is conscious of their greatest intensity. At times, however, they are so keen that the soul seems to be seeing hell and perdition opened. Of such are they that in truth go down alive into hell, being purged here on earth in the same manner as there, since this purgation is that which would have to be accomplished there. And thus the soul that passes through this either enters not that place at all, or tarries there but for a very short time; for one hour of purgation here is more profitable than are many there. Book 2 Chp. 6
I told you it was horrifying… It goes on like this for many more chapters, in case you’d like to read further. It’s available for free online here.
I’m working my way through a new book – Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness, by Evelyn Underhill. (It’s an old book, just newly discovered by me). It’s wonderful, and deserves a much more thorough treatment than a single quote (I’ll work on a larger post). In the meantime, I wanted to share this one excerpt, because it’s so close to my heart that I cried when I found it.
Thus St. Catherine of Siena spent three years in hermit-like seclusion in the little room which we still see in her house in the Via Benincasa, entirely cut off from the ordinary life of her family. “Within her own house,” says her legend, “she found the desert; and a solitude in the midst of people.” There Catherine endured many mortifications, was visited by ecstasies and visions: passed, in fact, through the states of Purgation and Illumination, which existed in her case side by side.
This life of solitude was brought to an abrupt end by the experience which is symbolized in the vision of the Mystic Marriage, and the Voice which then said to her, “Now will I wed thy soul, which shall ever be conjoined and united to Me!” Catherine, who had during her long retreat enjoyed illumination to a high degree, now entered upon the Unitive State, in which the whole of her public life was passed. Its effect was immediately noticeable. She abandoned her solitude, joined in the family life, went out into the city to serve the poor and sick, attracted and taught disciples, converted sinners, and began that career of varied and boundless activity which has made her name one of the greatest in the history of the fourteenth century.
Nor does this mean that she ceased to live the sort of life which is characteristic of mystical consciousness: to experience direct contact with the Transcendental World, to gaze into “the Abyss of Love Divine.” On the contrary, her practical genius for affairs, her immense power of ruling men, drew its strength from the long series of visions and ecstasies which accompanied and supported her labours in the world. She “descended into the valley of lilies to make herself more fruitful,” says her legend. The conscious vehicle of some “power not herself,” she spoke and acted with an authority which might have seemed strange enough in an uneducated daughter of the people, were it not justified by the fact that all who came into contact with her submitted to its influence.
That last sentence, the conscious vehicle of some power not herself, which commands authority with those who hear it, is precisely the experience of the higher self coming through… (I wrote about my own experience of this in the last post).
Here’s another story on this subject.
Some time ago, I was working closely with someone who had this happen to him as well; his consciousness opened to the expression of his higher self. It was a very brief experience, lasting just a few minutes, but it was intense and profound for both of us.
The person didn’t say or do anything of significance, but the energy of the room shifted so dramatically that it was impossible to mistake for anything else. I was standing with my back to him, about 20 feet between us, when it happened. Feeling something strange, I turned around and was almost knocked off my feet. A huge wave of energy came washing over me, engulfing me completely. Seemingly out of nowhere, I suddenly felt really really small, and in the presence of something vast and incredibly powerful. For those few minutes, this person’s entire demeanor shifted. It was like he became someone entirely different (all the same characteristics I wrote about last time – direct, stoic, very loving and kind, and yet extremely fierce).
The presence of the higher self in human expression produces a deep sense of reverence in the atmosphere of the room – not for the person, but for him as the conduit of this sacred force. It is unmistakably divine; in the sense that it produces those very same feelings of humility and insignificance that other experiences of divinity produce. It’s truly breathtaking when it happens. There is no doubt that those who encountered St. Catherine when that power moved through her would have been completely taken over by it.
As I wrote last time, there aren’t many clear descriptions of this experience in the writing of the mystics (or there are, and I just haven’t found them yet). So finding these tiny allusions in the histories brings about huge feelings of comfort and a sense of belonging within me. I’ll begin sharing them more when I find them.
At least that’s how the expression goes… Here’s what’s been going on since I emerged from the darkness a few months ago.
I’m not entirely in the light yet, but the horizon is a lot brighter these days. On the whole, I’ve been feeling a lot better and stronger. Much more functional, with some ups and downs. I’m still rather sensitive energetically, but interactions with others are becoming easier. Of course, the inner healing work continues, but now the results are really palpable, which is very exciting for me.
I’ve written briefly before about my experiences with my higher self. I had my first encounter with Her, as a vision, over a year ago. With the visual image came the knowledge that this was a spiritual divine aspect of my soul, a more evolved higher vibrational aspect. And that She would be making room inside me so that full embodied expression can be established. It’s been a lengthy and complicated period of integration.
There is a lot of overlap between the higher self integration and the kundalini process itself. I’m not sure yet where the distinctions lie, but not everyone with an active kundalini has this higher self process. I’ve spoken to a lot of people who have had an active kundalini for years, and most have no tangible experience of what I’m talking about. Basically, of all the weird stuff that can happen, this is even more uniquely weird.
So far, my theory is that one must have an active kundalini to go through this process; but the activation itself is not enough. The energy doesn’t do this on its own. The person has to actively do an enormous amount of inner work to make any real transformations. And contact with the higher self, and the process of integration, is something that comes from Grace. It’s not something that can be done by any mechanical means. I don’t have any functional control.
When the integration period began I didn’t know anything about the higher self, nor about how any of it works. Slowly I’ve found bits and pieces of information, sprinkled throughout different esoteric writings, that now give me a semi- solid framework for the process I’m going through. In my research, I came across another person going through this precise sort of integration. Her experience of it follows a path similar to, and yet totally different than, my own. So I offer the following only as my own experience and larger understanding. Not necessarily the same for everyone; in fact, likely entirely unique for each person.
This engagement with the higher self, and living as the embodiment of it in human form, is the true arena of mysticism. It’s kind of the entire point. There are theoretical mystics, who are interested in the pursuit of truths in the intellectual sense. They are a wealth of knowledge and information, but only in theory and observation of others. And then, there are practical mystics (like me) who have little theoretical knowledge, but actually go through the process of complete inner destruction in order to become the human expression of this vibration. It’s a very complicated process that does not lend itself to formulaic expectations. There are no set stages or consecutive chapters, except for the most general of categories. When the shifts of consciousness happen within, and the higher self comes through, it really feels like an entirely different person within. (Some in the new age community describe a similar experience of a “walk in soul exchange” – this is a slightly different experience, as far as I can tell, but it really does feel like a completely different soul coming in and taking the reins).
In order to make room within my consciousness for this expression, (for the higher self to take permanent root) everything that is not truth has to be excavated and removed. Everything. Every single false belief. Every emotional wound. Every thing that is not of the highest vibrational quality of love within is getting processed out. !#&!@&. It’s not pretty. The last phase involved all the childhood pain. This new phase focuses on other areas, including a lot of past life stuff.
I have been dredging up all kinds of subconscious garbage for a few years, but never as ferociously as has been happening the last few months. Huge huge inner structures are disintegrating, as the core beliefs that sustain them are released. Stuff that remained hidden from conscious awareness (even after years of intense work), is now coming to the surface. I’m always slightly shocked to find new stuff in there. Just when I thought I’ve found everything, some new knot shows up to be untangled. (It keeps me humble 🙂 ).
There is also a ton of shadow integration happening, where the polarities of my human personality (and/or some learned ego patterns) are being balanced out by their polar opposite. In a rudimentary sense, it’s the cliche yin yang thing.
For example, it is in my nature to be independent, in the sense that I like to do everything myself. I love this particular trait, and admire it in others as well. I get a wonderful sense of accomplishment and self esteem from doing things on my own. The more complicated the better. In addition, through my childhood experiences, I learned to be fiercely independent, and hate feeling like I can’t handle everything without having to ask for help. So Spirit creates situations for me in the three dimensional reality, where I find myself in circumstances that make me feel extremely vulnerable and helpless. Through these experiences, I have to learn how to be ok with this opposite polarity. By wrestling with the judgments, beliefs, and emotions that arise out of these situations, I come into acceptance of being this opposite way, to my normal way of being. I see the beauty in vulnerability, and I can appreciate how proper interdependence with others can lead to some really profoundly sacred feelings and experiences. (I have to re-learn how to trust other people!).
As I balance independence with vulnerability, the shadow of that trait is incorporated and balanced within. This allows the higher self greater and greater latitude. It creates more space within my consciousness for this higher vibrational energy to take more permanent residence.
There has been a lot of this over the last few months. And it’s not fun at all, being pushed out of my comfort zone and turned into the opposite. But it appears that a lot of inner axes are now in a comfortable state of balanced alignment. It’s still a work in progress… It’s a curious thing that my self has to be healed, strengthened, and built up, only to then be dissolved. (There is an old saying in spiritual practice that you must have a self before you can get rid of the self. I think this is what it refers to. You cannot have sustainable spiritual transformation without the psychological healing, otherwise you end up with a completely fractured personality.)
So far, the expression of the higher self within and through me has been very interesting. I’m still trying to get a handle on the mechanics. I’ve written about the few defining characteristics before. She is kind, loving, and supportive in the deepest sense. Also fierce, direct, and stoic, but with a wonderful sense of humor. She is intelligent beyond anything I could ever fathom. And She is only interested in truth and fairness of the highest spiritual order. My experience of the higher self as these things (contrary to the saintly angelic concepts) has been confirmed again and again in the writings and experiences of others. She is much more warrior goddess than Mother Teresa…
I wasn’t really comfortable being the embodiment of these things for a long time, but I’m getting more used to it. I used to make the distinction between what I would say as me, and what I would be asked to say from Her. As I become more comfortable with the expression, the distinction is no longer necessary.
I’m learning very slowly how to allow this expression to come through fully, without judging it. It feels quite scary at times, not knowing what’s going to come out of one’s mouth, and not having much sense of control. (I used to love having a sense of control). But also, if I remember not to judge it, it’s kind of exciting. I never know what is going to be revealed.
I still have regular experiences of insight and wisdom that come, although they are a little different now. I can only describe them as a kind of intuitive download of understanding. Sometimes there is so much of it coming at once, that it’s too much for my brain to grasp, and I begin feeling overwhelmed and ungrounded. It’s like standing in a house of mirrors, and trying to keep track of an infinite number of reflections at the same time. My brain is just not smart enough to handle it all at the same time. So I spend a lot of time doing actual research and reading various texts in all different areas of study. What to read and study is also inspired from within; as sudden sparks of interest appear, which weren’t there just the day before. This gives me a framework and context into which I can incorporate what I’m shown. The downloads then become a lot more comfortable and manageable.
In the interim, for the human me, as I go through this new phase, there are so many fluctuations everyday in the core of my being, that I’ve given up trying to hold on to anything solid. It just not possible. My entire belief structure gets overhauled again and again. What I have noticed though is that as the old structures are knocked out, and the wounding they held is healed and released, the next day or so, those particular areas feel a lot more deep, stable, and solid. The emotional reactivity of that particular sphere drops entirely to zero. And a new stability and grounded peace emerges. I do experience a sort of floaty sensation sometimes, as if my sense of self has become very shallow, floating above emptiness.
In addition, as if all of the above weren’t enough, there is an experience of being made into nothing, which is a hallmark of the kundalini process. I’m not entirely sure how it relates to the higher self integration, if it does at all. The fully activated kundalini is said to be a life-long journey of becoming nothing, because the ego and conditioning dissolve and with them the sense of a self also dissolves. But there is a more intense concentrated experience within the process, which only started in earnest in the last few months.
Everything that is important to the human me, all the attachments, all the things I use to feed my sense of self worth, are being removed. It is as if I’m being stripped down to nothing. This hurts a lot. And can feel like unsupported free fall. There’s a lot of fear, shame, and grief involved in this particular section. I often feel like I’ve hit a kind of bottom. I make peace with that bottom (mourning the loss of the stuff that went and getting comfortable with the exposure), and then a new bottom is revealed. Ugh. But that process too appears to be nearing its end. (I hope. I really really hope).
There is a very distinct experience that started slowly some time ago, but happens more frequently now. More and more, I become able to “see” very clearly into a person. It’s a feeling, a sensation, and a series of thoughts that come as a sudden knowing. It’s not empathic, as I don’t feel their feelings. And it’s not clairvoyance; it doesn’t have anything to do with the past or future. It’s more like spiritual sight. I thought for a while that it was just a deductive reasoning; like a good educated guess. I’m relatively smart, and self-aware, so it follows that I can sort of guess what’s happening within people who aren’t self-aware. But what I see (which is later confirmed to be true), is not on the surface of the interaction. In fact it seems at times totally contrary to what the person is saying to me. No one would reasonably deduce what I’m shown from the interaction. It made me feel really nuts for a while. And while I still doubt the veracity of it quite a bit, I’m being shown that I can in fact trust it fully.
(There are implications of this new ability that I started writing about, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing it just yet. I’m still trying to work out how much of it is related to my own growth, and how much of it is in service to others. I’ll explain more about this when it feels right).
Just as the previous phase I wrote about, this entire thing is being guided and directed from within. It’s not my doing, but rather something I’m guided through (without much personal will in the matter. Resistance is really futile. Really.). I don’t know where the inner resources come from to continue this work. It feels at times like it’s taken everything from me. At the same time, I feel as though I’m being carried on some kind of current which directs the process and gives me the inner strength to get through each day. If it weren’t so painful, I’d say it is intensely beautiful. It’s sort of both at the same time. A most intricate, sacred, and magical play of light and darkness.
A real blessing of Grace, for which I am most humbly grateful.