It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything new here. I have no excuse; I just haven’t really felt like it.
The last few months have been extremely hard and intense for me. As I continue shedding the remnants of this unbelievable and catastrophic darkness, I’ve been slowly (very slowly) returning back into the normal world. The inner clearing and healing work continues (albeit in new aspects and along new dimensions). It is still taking up the majority of the hours each day, demanding priority over all else. I’m told that’s temporary and will lessen over time.
Interacting with others, short conversations, and even running small errands are now becoming more and more manageable. It often feels like I’m a brand new person, with an entirely new personality, learning how to walk all over again – painful, awkward, scary, and with lots of ups and downs. (I figuratively fall on my ass a lot.)
Navigating all of this has been incredibly complicated and difficult. Without any rulebooks or external guidance, I’ve had to move through this, basically feeling my way through it, one terrifying step at a time. In the last few weeks in particular, the process turned outward, and I’ve been pushed into confronting some very real and serious external challenges, which have taken every ounce of strength, and faith, and courage to endure. They are all part of the healing and training process, but still they are extremely scary. It is only by the grace of God, and two exceptionally devoted friends, that I’ve managed to get through all of it. They say that if you have one really good friend you can get through just about anything. I am blessed with two such friends, for whom I am endlessly grateful. You know who you are!
Up until now it’s been too vulnerable for me to really share the details of these recent experiences, for a bunch of different reasons. Aside from fears and doubts, I didn’t quite have the words to convey the gravity or sanctity of what’s been happening to me. I still don’t. There are aspects of this that I can’t articulate, can’t conceptualize, and at times don’t fully understand. At first I found this to be intensely frustrating, but then resigned myself to the idea that not everything needs to be mentally understood or shared with others. (Shocking, I know. I’m kind of a blabber-mouth, so not sharing everything with everyone is weird for me. But I’m getting used to it.)
As fate would have it, just as I’d given up on sharing all of this, I met a very special person last week, who appears to have precisely the right words! Enter my new friend, Henry, the poet, from Cuba. A kindred spirit with a deeply intuitive heart, Henry magically appeared in my life in a rather unexpected way.Our seemingly random (and spiritually significant) encounter left us both a little shocked and reeling, I think. The magic and divine mystery that surrounds our lives is wondrous and truly extraordinary. No matter how many times I see it, no matter how many times I’m completed floored by the significance and intensity of it, my awe and surprise never seem to diminish.
It’s been a while since my last post, so I figured I’d pop in to add some new (ancient) thoughts and discoveries.
I came across the quote below by the controversial genius G.K. Chesterton a few weeks ago. It’s from his book Orthodoxy, which serves as an attempt at explaining his relationship with the Christian faith. I haven’t had a chance yet to explore his work as fully as I’d like to. It’s on my to do list. (I did watch the entire Father Brown series on Netflix, which is based on one of Chesterton’s fictional characters. Unfortunately, I don’t think that counts as a serious look at his work.). 🙂
Anyway, what I have read of his work so far, and of him generally, reveals some deeply mystical understandings. He is known for his infinite capacity to savor the mundane in the present moment; an early twentieth century Power of Now type. He was a prolific writer, poet, theologian, journalist, and art critic. His later conversion to Catholicism and the wondrous belonging he finds there remind me a lot of my own explorations. (He was also vehemently anti-semitic, which is part of what makes him controversial. I’ve learned how to appreciate the good aspects of a person, while accepting that there are also less than desirable ones.).
The subject of this quote, the experiential cultivation of courage, like so many other virtues, is intensely interesting. This quote captures some of the complexity and subtlety of the process, and the difficulty of articulating it in such a way that it fits into a contextual framework. (True virtue has this sort of you-know-it-because-you-live-it-and-feel-it quality that defies explanations.).
“Take the case of courage. No quality has ever so much addled the brains and tangled the definitions of merely rational sages. Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die. ‘He that will lose his life, the same shall save it,’ is not a piece of mysticism for saints and heroes. It is a piece of everyday advice for sailors or mountaineers. It might be printed in an Alpine guide or a drill book. This paradox is the whole principle of courage; even of quite earthly or brutal courage. A man cut off by the sea may save his life if we will risk it on the precipice.
He can only get away from death by continually stepping within an inch of it. A soldier surrounded by enemies, if he is to cut his way out, needs to combine a strong desire for living with a strange carelessness about dying. He must not merely cling to life, for then he will be a coward, and will not escape. He must not merely wait for death, for then he will be a suicide, and will not escape. He must seek his life in a spirit of furious indifference to it; he must desire life like water and yet drink death like wine. No philosopher, I fancy, has ever expressed this romantic riddle with adequate lucidity, and I certainly have not done so. But Christianity has done more: it has marked the limits of it in the awful graves of the suicide and the hero, showing the distance between him who dies for the sake of living and him who dies for the sake of dying.”
Courage, like all virtues, is the natural default spiritual state. It is the inherent nature of all humans liberated from ego. It’s not something to be positively acquired. It’s not something you collect or build up, like muscles. Rather, like love, compassion, trust or integrity, it’s something that emerges when the barriers to it are removed. Namely, fear.
In truth, to really cultivate courage, one must focus on the undoing of fear. Then courage emerges on its own, without any effort or doing.
Below are the exquisite lyrics to one of my favorite songs – Going Home, by Leonard Cohen. I’ve been thinking a lot about the Divine Will over the last few days, and this song came to mind. (It was also published as a poem in the New Yorker magazine). I first heard it a few years ago, and have been obsessed with it ever since.
Right from the start, from the very first time I heard it, I felt an intense connection with its message. Somewhere deep within was the immediate recognition of a resonant experience, some shared knowing, which I didn’t really remember having. Kind of like when you are suddenly reminded of a really important dream, that you understand and appreciate inside your mind, but you can’t really convey it in words. I couldn’t pinpoint how I knew it, or where I knew it from, I just knew. I felt thrilled and moved in a way that music had never done to me before.
In my naive zeal, I couldn’t wait to share it with others. I made everyone I know listen to it with me, hoping they would hear what I was hearing; hoping that they too would get what I got. But, of course, they didn’t. They couldn’t…
To them, it was just a strange and eerie song, which made them vaguely uncomfortable. Not only did they not get its significance, but they couldn’t understand why I was so taken with it. And at the time, frankly, I couldn’t either.
I could explain the song’s meaning, the profound depth of the message, but I couldn’t explain how I understood it, or why it was so important. I didn’t know the momentous gravity that the message of this song would come to have in my life. Looking back now, I understand it as a real-life experience of foreshadowing.
This song captures ideas that are thrown about a lot, superficially. But rarely are they lived or experienced in their authentic entirety, even among avid spiritual seekers. It’s hard to know if this song comes from creative inspiration, or if it’s a testament to Leonard’s own experience. None of his other songs, as far as I’ve heard, reveal quite this level of mystical consciousness and development.
Given his monastic life and reclusive periods, it’s entirely possible that he attained this level of understanding. On the other hand, in my occasional intersections with the world of artists, I’ve found that they can sometimes produce amazing and brilliant work, but be totally ignorant to the spiritual significance of their own creations. In these cases, they are the vessel and craft, through which the truth expresses itself. The artist doesn’t have any personal experience or understanding of what the message is, he is just the one to receive and transmit it. It’s possible that this piece came to Leonard, as is. The song itself seems to stand apart from the man, even while using him as its subject, which seems to indicate that it’s not from him. Or it could be grounded in his actual experience. I don’t know. If I assume it’s the latter, that is a staggering level of mystic consciousness (I’ll tell you why in a second).
The lyrics are speaking from the perspective of the Divine Will, through the vessel of Leonard, the human. There is a matter of fact simplicity to what’s being said. The tone is casual, (as Spirit often is), because the theme is universal – this story is as old as time itself.
The Divine Will is describing the humble truth of Leonard, with almost humorous sort of love. There is a paternal avuncular quality to Leonard’s experience of being governed by it, and a natural inherent tension between them. This is the very essence of mystical life. We first see Leonard’s resistance, surrender, and courage; of which the Divine Will approves. And then we see Leonard being taken over fully, his egoic ambition diminished and eclipsed, as an obvious and necessary condition of the arrangement. In exchange, the Divine Will cushions him in loving wisdom and guidance, alleviating the source of his human tension and striving.
Saying nothing of the incredible artistry on display, these lyrics reveal a tremendous spiritual depth, a knowing, and a sacred understanding, that can only come from years of honest and painstaking inner work. Typically, to know and understand this tension, this internal experience, is to have attained really advanced stages of mysticism. This kind of nuance isn’t just something you stumble across as an amateur seeker.
A mystical relationship with the Divine Will is intensely complex. It is a kind of sacred dance; a trust and intimate personal connection and understanding, that develops over many different moments and experiences together. It is very much like a sacred marriage, described by so many ancient texts. The Divine Will, by its very nature, will push its vessel into fear and discomfort, through various trials and hardships. We see this in all accounts of all the mystics and prophets since the dawn of time. The Divine Will asks its vessel to say or do uncomfortable things (speak unpleasant truths to power, preach unpopular or controversial ideas or reforms, break with conformity and social rules, endure public shame and ostracism, etc). It does so in order to spiritually grow, advance, and purify the person. In the friction, to illuminate for him where he is out of alignment with love, and to fortify and infuse him with faith and courage. In cultivating and practicing ever-deepening levels of surrender, the vessel heals and releases his resistance, allowing the Divine Will to flow and express itself more freely.
The practice of surrender is itself a fascinating but voluminous subject for another time. It is, however, the only path forward. The vessel learns pretty quickly that the dictates of the Divine Will can’t be refused. Resistance causes the pressure (in whatever form) to escalate until the vessel is forced to capitulate. This can be read as something menacing or punitive, but it’s not that at all. It doesn’t ever intend to hurt. It loves deeply, but like a strict (at times ruthless) teacher, it will provide the lessons to be learned. The smart vessel will turn towards his resistance and work to undo it quickly, rather than endure the resulting pressures. This all comes with time and practice, at a relatively advanced level of spiritual mastery.
To go further, and to allow oneself to be overtaken and transformed completely by this majestic power, to become the purest vessel for it, is the height of mystical consciousness. It is an acknowledgement and fundamental (not just intellectual, but experiential) acceptance that this power has always been in control. And that the very thing fighting against it, the part that resists it, isn’t actually real. It is a creation of fear. An inner illusion. (I’m not invalidating the feelings; they are very real. But going to depth and discovering it fully, reveals that there’s no substance to it. The mere act of looking at it dissolves it). With awareness and discovery work, that part, the resisting part, is slowly and steadily healed and dismantled, until there is nothing left. Then the Divine Will flows freely, expresses itself fully, unencumbered by fear. This is the ultimate unitive state of love. It is the culmination and climax of inner spiritual work and tremendous pain. It requires a magnitude of surrender that most people will never understand.
And the resulting nature of life is a moment by moment, nearly-impulsive way of being. The word impulsive implies ignorance or recklessness. That’s not what I mean. It’s impulsive in the sense that it receives and follows the instruction of the Divine Will without a plan or vision. Existing in the present moment, with full trust and faith, and inexplicable courage, the person expresses that which asks to be expressed, without reservation. All the time. He follows his feelings (which are now pure of egoic desire), and this intuitive guidance above all else. In doing so, he experiences joy, divine love and bliss, intense satisfaction, and incredible inner peace. (He also adventures into mystical realms and discovers unexplored horizons).
In these seemingly unassuming phrases, Leonard captures the essence of faith and surrender, of undoing, of nothingness, of humility, and of the highest order of authentic expression. All of which make up the true mystical experience – the courageous self-less embodiment of complete service to, and union with, the Divine Will.
To arrive at this place, to actually carry out this charge, is (in my opinion) the most difficult and most rewarding mission in the world. It’s not easy. It is a painful (at times excruciating) process that takes immense dedication, fortitude, and a lot of work. To the skeptical observer, spirituality appears to be a peaceful or tranquil practice. Some people even believe that spirituality is some sort of retreat from real life, or an intoxicant for avoiding pain. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
To the genuine practitioner, what goes on within is nothing short of a civil war. It’s brutal, and bloody, and devastating, often teetering on the brink of madness. It is a fight to the death, literally. But to those few who are called to it, genuinely, all else is happily forsaken. They wouldn’t trade their calling for anything else in the world. They feel blessed to be given this work, and utterly unworthy of such an experience of Grace.
I used to think that the “going home” chorus of the song meant dying; that he was returning to the spirit world. In some sense, it is a death, of the ego. But I now see a deeper meaning. The going home is a metaphor – it’s about the journey home. This very arduous journey to truth, to love, and back to union with God. It’s what the journey of the mystic is really all about.
“Going Home” I love to speak with Leonard He’s a sportsman and a shepherd He’s a lazy bastard Living in a suit
But he does say what I tell him Even though it isn’t welcome He just doesn’t have the freedom To refuse
He will speak these words of wisdom Like a sage, a man of vision Though he knows he’s really nothing But the brief elaboration of a tube
Going home Without my sorrow Going home Sometime tomorrow Going home To where it’s better Than before
Going home Without my burden Going home Behind the curtain Going home Without the costume That I wore
He wants to write a love song An anthem of forgiving A manual for living with defeat
A cry above the suffering A sacrifice recovering But that isn’t what I need him To complete
I want him to be certain That he doesn’t have a burden That he doesn’t need a vision That he only has permission To do my instant bidding Which is to say what I have told him To repeat
Going home Without my sorrow Going home Sometime tomorrow Going home To where it’s better Than before
Going home Without my burden Going home Behind the curtain Going home Without this costume That I wore
[Chorus]
I love to speak with Leonard He’s a sportsman and a shepherd He’s a lazy bastard Living in a suit
Here’s what’s been going on since the first phase of darkness ended a few months ago.
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 experience came a shift in consciousness and the knowledge that this was a divine aspect of my soul. She let me know 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 cleansing and 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 and didn’t make any of this happen.
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 energy. 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 entity 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 quality of love within is getting processed out. !#&!@&. It’s not pretty. The last phase involved all the childhood pain. The new phase I’m in 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 – dependent, needing to ask for help, and rely on others. 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 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 Mr. Rogers…
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.
A couple of months ago a new energetic force arrived in my life.
On top of all the different energies surrounding my strange existence, this was something different. Uninvited and unannounced, it came into my life and took me on an extremely difficult and painful journey into the depths of darkness. It is both a sacred journey, and one I wouldn’t wish upon another living being. Ever.
You can call it an “ego trip,” but not in the usual sense. Slowly and methodically, following some invisible plan, this energy of darkness took me on a regressive ride back to childhood. Part healing, part training, it felt like my consciousness was aggressively yanked backwards, against my will, to revisit the entire formation of my ego.
A little bit of background first: There are a lot of misconceptions about what the “ego” is. In spiritual circles, it’s something bad that needs to be avoided, rejected, killed or transcended (depending on which tradition you follow). Lots of people mistakenly conflate the ego, with the entire personality or self, which creates a lot of confusion. And the entheogenic folks use the term “ego death” as a threshold marker for the mystical realms; also somewhat inaccurate.
In my view, it’s relatively straightforward.
The ego is the false self. It is a solidified network of beliefs in the subconscious mind, which generates thoughts, feelings, reactions, and patterns of behavior into the conscious mind and personality. It’s not bad, per se. But left unattended it leads to a lot of suffering in life. In essence, it is a program (like in a computer) of coping mechanisms that we develop, for living in a world where being yourself is not acceptable. Ego is the mask we learn to wear, because we’re too afraid to be real and vulnerable. Ego is the person you believe you should be (or must be in order to be loved and accepted), rather than the person you actually are.
Ego takes shape in response to experiences during the formative childhood years, and hardens and reinforces itself over time. The more rejection you encounter, the more fear, judgement, criticism, shame, and trauma that is inflicted upon you, the bigger or stronger the ego becomes. Like an armor or a shield, it is meant to protect you against an emotionally dangerous world. It is made up of lots of defense mechanisms.
The real self, the personality you were born with, gets buried deeper and deeper until it’s completely repressed. Without awareness, most people have no inkling of their real self. They identify with the program running in their subconscious mind, believing that that’s just who they are. They wear a kind of false mask to face the world, and live out the dictates of this subconscious program. Most people live without conscious awareness of this program their entire lives.
(There is some philosophical debate about whether there is even a real authentic self at the core or not. The argument is that even the very process of birth effects the personality and conditions it in some way, so there is no absolute personality at all. My view of this is that there is very much a real self (small s); but it’s not consistent or definable. It’s a mutable feeling sense. It’s not something that can be conceptualized or described. It’s something you feel, not exactly something the mind understands. There is an authentic self, but there is no self concept attached to it. You can’t reduce the truth of the authentic self into words, because it’s too fluid in its expression. It doesn’t conform to anything consistent. The fact that it’s amorphous doesn’t make it non-existent, it only makes it indescribable.)
[There is a deeper aspect of ego, a set of drives, that aren’t inherently part of the false self. It has to do with how love is sourced – internally vs externally. That’s the top-level organizing logic of all the various inclinations. But that is a much more complicated area, and one I will write about at some point later because I haven’t thought it through well enough to articulate].
Anyway, for most people, all the real spiritual work is an undoing of this false ego self. Not because it’s bad, but because it stands in the way of authentic expression, joy, happiness, and satisfaction in life. Ego causes lots and lots of emotional suffering. With love and awareness (and the proper tools) the initial dismantling of the false self is not that difficult. Different spiritual traditions approach the dismantling differently, but at the core that’s what spirituality is really about – the shedding of the false self, so that the real self can be fully expressed and liberated. The entire methodology of the chakra energy system is built around this goal – getting a person into authentic alignment and expression. When he is in alignment with his real self, all the chakras are in proper balance. (It’s also the central goal of the kundalini process – shedding the false self so the authentic self can emerge and live freely. This is what true liberation is all about).
As I see it, if a person isn’t doing the inner discovery work to shed this false mask (by healing the wounds that created it), if he isn’t striving to live more authentically every day, with more self-love and acceptance, more in alignment with his true nature, then he isn’t spiritual at all. He doesn’t actually understand what spirituality is all about.
Despite what passes for spirituality in the mainstream these days, in my opinion, there are few people who understand this fully. Meditation is not enough. Mindfulness is not enough. Yoga is not enough. Talking about esoteric mysteries, and love and light are not enough. Ayahuasca ceremonies are not enough. And even having a fully active kundalini is not enough. It takes conscious effort and disciplined awareness practice (deep deep self discovery work) to really make a difference with actual results; actual transformations in consciousness that work from the inside out. Everything else, to me, is just pomp and circumstance. Pretty forms without any substance.
I’ve gone off on a tangent again. Sorry. I’ll save the preaching for another post. Let me get back to my story…
So I’ve been practicing this form of contemplative inquiry for several years, which aims at discovery and shedding the false self, while building courage to express the authentic self properly. I’ve done a lot of discovery work, a lot of childhood stuff, and tons of healing over the last few years. And having reached particular milestones, (ego death, higher self, etc.) I felt confident in my own process, in my own healing work, and in my work with others.
And then in November, without much warning, amidst a bunch of other strange experiences, this really dark energy took me over. It literally felt like darkness descended upon me. I couldn’t shake it. It was heavy and thick, and debilitating. It plunged me down into a special sort of hell; simultaneously torturous and sacred. I’ve dealt with tremendous pain before, but this… this was totally different.
This energy asked me to apply all of the tools, discipline, and strength I had, until there was nothing left. Day after day, in indescribable psychic pain, I was shown how my ego, my false self, was formed. I got to visit every single one of the places I was hurt, shamed, criticized, rejected, abandoned and unloved. All of the relevant crucial moments where my childhood self internalized the words and actions of others, believing herself to be deeply unacceptable as she was, and forming a more acceptable version of herself (my false self), in order to be loved, accepted, and safe; all of it came alive again before my eyes.
Most people, everyone who has even a modicum of self-awareness, will tell you that their childhood was painful and difficult. Subjectively, mine was as well. It’s a socially conditioned illusion that childhood is some idyllic wonderful carefree time. It’s not; not for anyone, regardless of circumstance. Even the children of the most loving and evolved parents will collect wounding, ego conditioning, and (subjectively) traumatic experiences of rejection. It’s unavoidable. It’s the very purpose of incarnating into human form – to accumulate pain, and then learn from that pain.
And so for the last two months, I have had a front row seat in my own life review. Every day, multiple times a day, I would receive the internal energetic signal that there was work to do. I’d sit down to investigate the arising thoughts and emotions (intense feelings of shame, fear, guilt, anger, despair, anxiety, depression), and each time I’d trace them all the way back to the moment of their creation. I would then fully re-live and emotionally re-feel the ancient experience, in its entirety. It felt as if I was holding my inner child in my arms, as she took me through everything she’d ever felt; every place that she learned she was unacceptable. There are no words to describe the pain of this. There are just no words…
Sometimes I’d have to revisit the same memories multiple times, each time with a slightly different vantage point and perspective. This is what’s known as the spiral effect in healing. You go over the same thing again and again, each time at a deeper level of awareness and understanding. Kind of like a downward spiral. This was all happening to me; as if according to some divine schedule. It wasn’t something I was orchestrating or directing. Even after all of the magical things I’ve experienced so far, most days I couldn’t believe what was happening to me.
And as I’ve been shown over the last few years, resisting this work and these lessons only causes more pain. If ignored or resisted, Kundalini will ratchet up the pain with all kinds of physical symptoms until one comes into compliance. There is no way out of the pain, but through it. In this arena, the concept free will becomes something of a joke. Seeing all of this, and feeling all of it, you come to understand that you were never in control to begin with…
During these months, it became physically painful to talk to other people (not that there are many people who could understand and accept what was happening to me). I became energetically sensitive in a devastating new way. I felt completely raw and exposed, like all my insides were now on the outside. I’ve had phases of this experience before, (being turned inside out) but never quite like this. If I wasn’t actively crying, then I was on the brink of tears all the time. In that kind of extreme vulnerability (with all the spiritual components) there is almost no one who has the capacity to offer the right kind of presence, compassion, or support. Other people’s well-meaning attempts to cheer me up, or offer me advice or opinions, felt like nails on a chalkboard; only making me withdraw further inward. And so I spent these months in almost complete isolation and seclusion. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t interact with anyone. I could barely make it off the couch to walk the dog.
Led by nothing but intuitive guidance and synchronistic signs, there were moments when I really didn’t know if I’d make it through this alive. My faith was severely tested. My sanity barely hanging by a thread. The psychological crisis points were so acute that words don’t convey the magnitude of it. It is an other-worldly sort of pain that I can’t explain. The only real solace was an inner knowing that this is okay and necessary. It’s part of the healing process. It was as if living through it, I was also observing it happen. There was an internal separation between the one experiencing this, and another awareness watching and learning.
Through this process I was offered a map of the darkness; like a guidebook (built on the foundation of all the prior spiritual processes I’ve developed). I was shown how absolutely every single thing we think and feel is childhood itself; being reflected for us like a mirror image, for our spiritual growth. It’s so divinely intelligent and intricately beautiful in its design, that it would leave you awed and speechless if you could see it in all its glory (without the pain, of course).
The healing protocol works like this: If you can stay with the emotional reaction long enough, investigate it fully with spiritual awareness, find the roots of what’s being reflected, apply love, compassion, and wisdom to that pain, and allow those old emotions to move through you – the wound heals itself. That’s it. It’s really rather simple. It’s also really really unpleasant. But there is a magical component to the healing that makes it all worth it. (Not that I have much of a say in the matter).
If this is done correctly, when you think back to that memory again there should be no emotional charge. You see the scars, but there is no internal movement in the emotional body. Sure enough, at some later point something in the external reality will come along to retrigger that wound (something that would have sent you into a strong reaction before), and internally nothing happens. That’s how you know the wound is healed.
Over time, with practice, you can heal all of the wounding in this way.
Over the last few days, it appears that my journey of this darkness is finally coming to an end. There have been significant shifts in consciousness that feel “back to normal.” (I use the word “normal” very loosely…). I’m not sure that I’m totally out of the dark just yet, but this phase appears to be coming to an end. The blissful mystical and transcendent experiences have returned. It feels very much like this darkness has been lifting, and I feel more and more stable and grounded again. Yesterday I could envision talking to other humans without a feeling of aversion. A good sign, I dare say.
Despite the pain, there is an incredible sense of reverence and gratitude for the experience. And there is a new really profound level of peace accompanying this re-emergence. The deeply buried fears and anxieties that I carried my entire life are gone. All the future planning, worrying, needing-to-know-and-control-things thoughts are gone. There are virtually no attachments to anything, even less than there were before. There are still some remnants of old stuff arising, but nowhere near the intensity of the last few months.
Mostly there is now a kind of surrendered repose in the present moment, and finally (finally!) a growing sense of excitement about what’s ahead. I am cautiously glad to be coming back to normal.
I wish I had some kind of graceful way to end this post, but I don’t. So be it.
And it’s not because they are especially intelligent, or funny, or charming. Theirs is a different sort of attractiveness.
Authentic people allow the creative energy of the universe to flow through them unencumbered; and they express it freely, without hesitation. Humbly, they know they are merely a vessel or conduit for whatever wants to be expressed; and really nothing more than that.
They rarely take personal credit for what seeks to flow through them, and so they don’t have a high opinion of themselves, based of their creations. They are not arrogant in their manner, but at best, quietly self-assured.
These people aren’t trendy or fashionable. They don’t really fit in nor stand out. Their homes are not expensively decorated nor perfectly maintained. Their lives, although on the surface often very simple and ordinary, display incredible depth, and meaning, and passion. Everything around them seems to move with an inexplicable harmony; even their chaos seems perfectly orchestrated. People are drawn to them, but no one can really say why. It’s a quality you can feel about them, but you can’t really name, and it’s something you certainly can’t mimic.
Just as an authentic piece of art, created in truth, becomes more beautiful and interesting the longer you look at it, so too with authentic people. They move with a certain flow through life that is captivating. They can turn the painfully mundane into something magical and mysterious. They carry a kind of serenity and innate wisdom that emanates from them, even when times are difficult and stressful. They possess an integrity of spirit and character, that others venerate and try desperately to emulate.
But this quality of authenticity can’t be manufactured. People can tell you all day long about how honest and truthful they are, but it has nothing to do with what they say or don’t say. Ironically, authentic people will tell you that it’s virtually impossible to attain real authenticity. They have a particular kind of energy about them, you just know it instinctively the moment you meet them. The expression of this is wonderfully unique within each such person.
The big secret is we all have this capacity within us, if only we took the time to unlock our own potential for this kind of greatness…
In every relationship, romantic or otherwise, feelings get hurt. They just do. On one side, or the other, or both, occasionally. Knowing how to handle these situations properly, makes or breaks most relationships. (I’ve written about my problems with conflict before. Here, I’m sharing some new healthier approaches to conflict management).
To me, one of the hallmarks of love, is the capacity to lovingly honor someone’s feelings in the course of a conflict.
Learning to honor someone’s feelings means cultivating the ability to listen, open-heartedly, non-defensively, when someone comes to you and says “hey, this thing you did… it really hurt me.” And then learning how to respond properly, lovingly, by validating the other person’s feelings, taking responsibility when appropriate, being accountable, and demonstrating that you care about them.
In recent years, Dr. John Gottman has become one of the leading authorities on making marriages work. One of the most famous findings of his decades of research is something he calls the Four Horsemen (as in “… of the apocalypse”).
“The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse is a metaphor depicting the end of times in the New Testament. They describe conquest, war, hunger, and death respectively. Dr. Gottman uses this metaphor to describe communication styles that can predict the end of a relationship.”
These Horsemen are four behaviors, four qualities of relating, that his research identifies as spelling almost-certain disaster for a marriage. I would take it further and say not just marriage, but any close relationship.
These behaviors are criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling. You can read much more about them here. There are many many articles available on this subject. I won’t go into complete detail in this post. I trust that you can google it if you’d like to learn more.
I do want to just address one of these, though, because it is so close to my heart – defensiveness. Here is Gottman’s definition: Defensiveness is defined as self-protection in the form of righteous indignation or innocent victimhood in attempt to ward off a perceived attack. Many people become defensive when they are being criticized, but the problem is that being defensive never helps to solve the problem at hand. Defensiveness is really a way of blaming your partner. You’re saying, in effect, the problem isn’t me, it’s you. As a result, the problem is not resolved and the conflict escalates further. The antidote is to accept responsibility, even if only for part of the conflict.
It is something I used to do a lot (more so internally, than in actual expression, but the results were the same.). It is something I had to unlearn through lots and lots of painful self-reflection. Defensiveness, always defending yourself whenever you feel criticized, comes from low self-esteem. It happens when people are insecure, when their sense of self is fragile, and any form of blame, or responsibility for wrong-doing, cannot be tolerated. At the deepest level, it is when any sort of criticism is incorrectly taken to be a reflection of self-worth. (“If what he says about me is true, then that makes me a bad person” or “If I am to blame for this mistake, then I’m completely worthless.“). That’s when shame is triggered, and defensiveness kicks in to counter the shame. It tries to deny the truth of the criticism, deflecting blame and responsibility, in order to prevent a collapse of the fragile sense of self.
When you deal with someone who is consistently defensive, no matter what the circumstance, whenever you try to bring something to their attention, they immediately respond with “It’s not me. It’s you. This is not my fault. It is your mistake. I’m innocent.” They don’t say it quite so directly most of the time, but that’s the message you receive.
You know people like this. It is incredibly frustrating to deal with these people. It is impossible to raise any sort of relationship issues. It is impossible to air out or resolve conflict. It is impossible to come to them vulnerably with your hurt feelings, because they will only pour salt on your wounds – invalidating your perceptions, and making you feel wrong for feeling hurt in the first place.
You say: “Ouch, you just stepped on my foot! That really hurt.” And their response is: “No I didn’t. Don’t be such a baby. You shouldn’t have put your foot there in the first place. What are you doing standing so close to me anyway?“
(Actual example from a real life experience).
Defensiveness destroys relationships. It really really does. It is a slow painful death by a thousand cuts. Being in a relationship with a person who is constantly defensive and never takes responsibility means that you will always be to blame, no matter what happens. Everything will always be your fault, never theirs. They will never learn from their mistakes. They will never change or grow. They will never take steps to avoid hurting you, they don’t seem to care if you get hurt. And if you believe and internalize their opinions, then your own self worth begins to diminish.
With them, there can be no vulnerability. There can be no authenticity. No emotional intimacy. No healthy repair. And the relationship becomes entirely fake until it withers away and goes to dysfunctional relationship heaven.
It took me a loooong time to learn that there is another way. It came with the recognition that of course, sometimes my words or actions will hurt other people. I can try and try to be perfect, never wanting to cause anyone harm, but I’m not perfect. No one is. We all cause each other pain all the time; it’s practically unavoidable. But that doesn’t make someone a bad person, just a flawed imperfect human.
And I don’t need to get defensive when someone tells me I’ve done something wrong. I can take that on and own it. Then we can calmly sort out both sides of what happened, and I can take complete responsibility for the consequences of my actions, navigating guilt when I screw up, apologizing when appropriate, without feeling bad about myself as a person.
When someone I care about comes to me with his hurt feelings, he needs me to honor what he feels. He needs me to compassionately recognize that is hurt or in pain, and for me to demonstrate that I genuinely care about how he feels; how my words or actions made him feel. I caused him pain, and if we are to be in some kind of relationship together, he needs to know that I care about that. That I want and need to know when that happens, so that I can apologize, correct my behavior, and learn not to do that again.
If instead I become defensive, if I see his hurt feelings as an attack, if I immediately need to make him wrong, or convince him that he shouldn’t be upset, or defend my innocence, or I get angry and retaliate – forget it. That doesn’t work. This kind of response lets him know that I don’t care that he’s upset, I don’t want to hear about his hurt feelings, and I’m going to continue doing whatever I want, regardless of the pain it causes him.
People always ask for step by step instructions on things like this. So here are some steps to follow if you tend to get defensive in your relationships:
First, you allow the person to express himself completely. You listen without interruption. You don’t cut him off. You don’t get angry. You don’t huff and puff and throw a tantrum. You don’t retaliate with nasty words trying to destroy him.
Second, you acknowledge what the person is saying (“Yes. I understand.”). If you don’t understand, ask for an explanation or further clarification.
Third, internally, you allow for the possibility that they are absolutely right to feel what they feel. Their interpretations of the situation are valid (even if you don’t agree, even if they are based on false assumptions or mistaken intentions). Everyone has a right to feel what they feel, and to interpret the world through their own point of view.
Fourth, is learning to respond with love: “I’m so sorry that my actions hurt you. I see why you feel this way. I understand why you feel hurt. I understand how my words sounded, or how my actions made you feel. Please know that it wasn’t my intention to upset you; I feel bad that I have. Let’s talk about what happened. I want to learn how to do it better in the future, so you don’t get hurt.”
When you respond to someone this way, it lets them know that their feelings matter to you. It lets them know that you are sensitive to their pain. It lets them know that you care about them. This is how you honor their feelings without defensiveness.
Tolerance is “to allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one does not necessarily like or agree with) without interference.” Tolerance is to endure with forbearance. It carries a negative quality. Tolerance requires patience, causes frustration, and drains our vital energy. Inevitably, tolerating too much of something, ends in some kind of explosion when we “just can’t take it anymore!”
Acceptance, on the other hand, is a welcoming. It’s a positive emotion. It’s a seeing the goodness, benefit, correctness of a situation or condition. It is taking something we believe to be negative, and fundamentally altering our inner feelings about it.
The distinction is so important.
Tolerating something is allowing it to be, and trying to ignore it. Acceptance is looking deeply at the truth of a situation, and making positive interpretations of what’s there. Not just a silver lining, but the entire thing.
Acceptance is “yes! Please.”
Tolerance is “ugh. Fine.”
It begins with ourselves, accepting aspects of ourselves we don’t like, and finding why those aspects are actually positive. Then looking at aspects of others, and finding why those aspects (which we seem not to like) are also positive.
This is not an easy practice. Our minds are not trained to do this by default. It takes a significant effort to look inward. To see what is being resisted. And to bring it into acceptance.
My teacher, Gaya, used to repeat this to me all the time during our sessions; but like with most of her seemingly simple pieces of wisdom, I didn’t get it right away. It sounds ok. Sort of. Like some version of “all’s fair in love and war” kinda thing, right? (I never understood exactly what that phrase meant either. Either way, not important. Back to where I was going…).
So, love is ruthless. The more I thought about it, the less it made sense. In my view, at the time, love was soft, warm, accepting, gentle, and tender. It was all of these really beautiful, safe, sensitive, caring, protective ideas. Love was a respite. Love was ever-forgiving. Love was a warm comfortable blanket, surrounded by over-sized squishy pillows, on a really cold day. Right?
Nope, not so. Not even close.
Over the past year, I’ve come face to face with the energy of love. I mean face-to-face with the actual spiritual force that is love itself. And let me tell you something; it’s nothing like I imagined. I’ve been shown three faces of this energy: that of God (or the divine entity), that of Kundalini (often depicted as the Goddess Kali), and that of another spiritual force that runs my life, which I affectionately refer to as Gilda. Love is, in fact, in all three instances, absolutely ruthless!
There is, no doubt, a time and place for great tenderness in our often very painful lives. There is also complete unconditional acceptance of all things as they are. There is a tremendous reservoir of compassion, empathy, understanding, patience, and forgiveness. But the energy of love is a fierce, intense, incredible power. It does not pity. It does not have sympathy. It doesn’t care about victim stories or martyrdom or fear-based anything. It is not sentimental. It demands what it demands, and until you comply, there will be no salvation. Resistance is absolutely futile. Love will hurt you again and again until you learn her lessons. It’s really coercive, and can be unbelievably scary. (Some people hate the idea of surrender, and struggle with defiance patters. They try to use their will power to fight and resist this… It ends very badly, and ultimately they realize that they must surrender anyway.).
My experience of God (over several episodes really) is the subject of another post. Suffice it to say for now that each time I encounter this power, I’m left on the floor, sobbing for hours in humility, reverence, and gratitude. This power is infinite beyond anything words can convey. And when it comes, to me, at least, it arrives with a gravity and fierceness beyond descriptions. Neither soft, nor gentle.
The second face of love, Kundalini energy, is often depicted as Kali, the Goddess of destruction, darkness, fire (and a whole bunch of other things, depending on what you read). She burns everything in sight with unflinching momentum. She destroys all that is not truth. She removes all that doesn’t serve, with a swift and severe motion, without giving you a chance to say goodbye. She doesn’t care much for human attachments or promises. My writing ability doesn’t do justice to the incredible magnitude of this force. And yet, all she wants, all she’s really after, is for you to love yourself completely. Doesn’t that seem quaint? (I’m not talking about the fluffy cutesy variety of self-love. I’m talking about the really scary vulnerable painful truth version. Still, it seems strange somehow.)
If you love yourself, and do the work to develop ever-greater authenticity, in a way that is in your own unique spiritual alignment, Kundalini becomes as gentle as a kitten purring softly in your lap. But if you go against yourself, if you do not speak and act in your integrity, if you disorder your feelings, if you refuse to listen to your soul, if you act from the false self, seeking love and approval from other people, she will reign terror upon you without remorse. There’s no negotiating this, and she sees you infinitely better than you can see yourself. Meaning, she knows all of your motivations, even when they are unconscious. She forces you to pay attention and become conscious of them with each step. Otherwise, she will, literally, take away your will to live.
This sounds horrific, doesn’t it? That’s the terrifying nature of the mystical process. That’s why mystics are always wailing and screaming in their poetry, consumed by this force, helplessly at its mercy. In truth, there is actually no cruelty or malice in her approach. Just a matter-of-fact ruthless demand: surrender completely to her will (that is to say, come into complete self-love and awareness, surrendering your unconscious egoic personal will), and the pain stops right away. This is repeated again and again, at each level or layer of work.
And the third experience of this is my own local divine force, or higher self, who is similarly ruthless. Not long after my ego death experience, this spiritual force showed up in my life, and essentially moved into my body and mind. She, Gilda as we call her around here, directs everything I do. This isn’t quite as schizophrenic as it sounds, but close.
When the false begins shedding in earnest, and the true self emerges, it is often quite under-developed and in need of guidance. There is a profound and consistent connection to spirit which accompanies that initial emergence. And then at some point, there is a subtle dissolution or blending of the true small self with the spiritual higher self. There is a kind of humble surrender to the will of spirit, and a getting-out-of-the-way experience for the personal will. In practical terms, everyday there is less and less of my old fear-based self remaining, while my higher self, Gilda, teaches me how to live in accord with her higher values. My old decision-making ability is almost non-existent these days.
Gilda guides me from within nearly all the time. She informs me what to say, and how to say it, when to speak, and when to end a conversation, etc. And everything is in greater service, to my own life and the lives of those around me. It is through Gilda that all of the healing happens with my clients. It is through Gilda that all of the teaching and wisdom is conveyed. I recognize her as a part of me that’s always been there, I just didn’t have a tangible external experience of her until recently.
Interestingly, Gilda is not as docile, tender, or gentle as I would have imagined (or preferred) the force of love to be. It turns out that she, just like Kundalini, is fierce, intense, and demanding. Never mean or gratuitously hurtful, she blurts out the brutal unfiltered truth (without judgment), without any hesitation, or fear of consequence. She triggers me, and often those around me, for everyone’s greater benefit. She encourages me to stand up against injustice and ignorance in ways that are not always comfortable for my former terribly conflict-avoidant self. She is teaching me about courage, and helping me develop strength of character. She has given me a level of confidence that seems to command a respect I don’t understand (simultaneously irritating those with large egos). She brings out anger, when the situation calls for it, which is one of her favorite and my least favorite tools. She teaches me how and when to use it properly. In short, she is nothing like the sweet, peaceful, grandmotherly concepts I had about love. And definitely not the ever-peaceful zen monk images I had of spirituality. She can be really feisty, and quite certain of what to do, in situations where my moral decision-making feels fuzzy.
And yet, Gilda is all love. She is nothing but love and service. She is the Divine Feminine power, in action, without apologies. So is Kundalini. And so too is God (which doesn’t have a distinct gender to me). It turns out that my infinitely wise teacher had it right from the start, as always. Love is absolutely ruthless.
Often times when some negative event befalls someone we know, everyone shakes their heads in sympathy. “What a shame. Poor guy. He’s such a good person. How could this happen to him? He was always so kind and caring.” We make the mistake of thinking that this bad thing that happened is some kind of misfortune. A stroke of bad luck. Perhaps a consequence of the victim’s poor choices even. But this kind of thinking traps us in suffering. It is a victim mindset – that we are all hapless victims of a cruel and random fate.
This is how most people live life from within, but it is not the right way to live.
Bad things happen to good people all the time. Being a good person, or always making good smart choices, doesn’t protect us from negative events. Not even a little bit. Ultimately, death comes for us all. It’s one of the only certainties we have. There is nothing inherently bad about it. Of course, grief, or loss, or illness, can be terribly painful, but there is an important distinction to be made about the actual pain we experience, and the larger story we hold about the experience. The actual suffering is one thing, the larger perspective is another.
It is a misunderstanding of cosmic justice that bad things only happen to bad people, or that by being a good person we can somehow stay on fate’s good side, preventing tragic outcomes. That’s not how it works. Each of us has a particular life experience to live and work through. All of the things that come into our lives, good and especially bad, come to teach us lessons we have chosen to learn. At their core, all the lessons are about love – how to do love in human form.
When we hold negative events in the wrong perspective, we feel afraid and powerless. we hope for the best and constantly worry about the worst, living in a perpetual state of anxiety. We end up entirely missing the very lessons we came into this life to learn. Life is not about success or failure, as we ordinarily understand those things. It’s not about achievement. It’s not about controlling all the variables to make sure everything goes according to our plans. We have only an illusion of personal control.
Life is an opportunity to learn really profound lessons. It’s an experience of love, manifested in human form. It’s a beautifully designed play; orchestrated by an incredible intelligence, full of pain, and joy, and grief, and bliss, and heartbreaking injustice and suffering; all intricately mixed together, in just the right amounts for us, individually, to learn what we came here to learn. It’s all a dance of light and shadows in three dimensional form. We have to turn towards all the events and embrace them fully, as much as that’s possible, changing the larger perspective, so that we might endure the actual pain with less resistance and more personal agency.
Mystics have been writing about this for centuries, trying to share this wisdom of perspective. While it can be very hard not to feel victimized by fate in the throes of pain or grief, pro-actively, intentionally shifting the larger perspective, accepting circumstances and taking ownership of ourselves within those circumstances, letting the resistance drop away and finding the power we do have, actually helps us to move through and out of the pain, getting us out of our suffering much faster.
There is a subtle but pervasive tone of frustration in the writings of all the mystics, that no one understands this, or if they do intellectually understand it, they don’t put it into practice in their own experiences. These aren’t just lofty poetic ideas, they are actual tools of practice. They have to be implemented and lived, but people seem to reject these ideas, therefore seemingly choosing to remain in needless suffering.
“One of the marvels of the world is the sight of a soul sitting in a prison with the keys in its hand”
