I am a leaf, a single solitary leaf connected to my mother. She is a mighty Oak tree, so strong and wise. I love her, and she loves me. I am surrounded by my brothers and sisters, and they all love our mother, and she loves them. We all love each other, and there is a connectedness between us so pure and eternal. I would like to tell you a story of how I came to be, and the wise words my mother told me before I sprouted from my slumber.
"One day soon you will begin to wake up, and feel the warm rays of sun dancing on your skin", she said, her voice so strong and soothing.
These words were like soft waves of bliss opening me up. I could feel a pulsating energy within me beginning to rise, a feeling of clear consciousness starting to elevate itself from a dreamy sleep.
I began to wake up at that point in the dream, my heart so full of excitement and anticipation. I couldn't wait to begin my journey as the leaf on the branches of my mother.
Now, my time has come to fall to the ground. I have no regrets. I have embraced the changing seasons of life, and I have welcomed everything into my experience. I have had a beautiful life, and I know that this is not the end. My mother told me, as I lay asleep, many moons ago, that I would still feel the connectedness to all things. I have no fear. I am alive and even though my life as a leaf is coming to an end, I will always be alive, for I am connected to my mother and she is connected to everything.
This piece was another of my assignments from the spiritual writing course I attended. The topic was thought and how it can keep us tied to the stories of our life, like never-ending narratives playing on a loop, grinding us down, so that we forget the shimmering being we truly are. What I have discovered is that beneath incessant thinking lies mystery, a peace beyond words, a knowing that everything is just fine, a healing salve that soothes all that requires it. I hope you enjoy it, and maybe recognise yourself within these words.
From the traumatic experiences of my childhood, I have created so many roles for myself. So many lines to remember. So many scenes I must perfect. If God is giving out spiritual oscars, I want one. In fact, I want them all. I have to feel loved, accepted and respected, and so I carry on, recreating myself in the image of my desires. I have to feel loved, because there is such a deep wound of shame that I can never face . I must have deserved it. I must be so bad because bad things only happen to bad people. And so I carry on with these thought processes, perfecting the image of the wounded child, the spiritual seeker, the perfect avoider never allowing myself to truly feel the pain. My thoughts hijack me. I am a prisoner. I am being hunted and my thoughts are the predators.
But I so want to be loved, because I deserve it. Because, everything is love. God is love, and I am an expression of this divinity. So how could I ever be unlovable? And so on it goes, ad finitum. I feel exhausted. I can't stop thinking. But I must. My thoughts swing, like a pendulum, from the sublime to the profane, from the pure to the putrid, and I follow that eternal swing, allowing these thoughts to define me. It's like I'm made of velcro, a sticky little spot on the planet, a beacon for every thought. Will it ever stop? Will the pendulum ever stop swinging so that I can at last find some peace. Will I ever be at peace? Will this ever stop? I am so tired. God, please help me.
It's a beautiful sunny weekend in August, 2013. I have the weekend off work, and it's a great opportunity to perfect my website. It's really not that good - pretty amateur to be honest - and who wants to work with an amateur, right? I waste the hours Saturday graces me with, easily finding something to distract my mind. This is so bitter-sweet for the wounded little boy within me. All these distractions. No-one will see how mediocre and unworthy I really am. So many thoughts. So many self-judgements and opinions. But I can keep myself safe while I am invisible.
Sunday morning has arrived, and I wake up feeling like this is the day I can really shine. I can finally get something creative and worthy out there. But very quickly thoughts and feelings of insecurity take up residence in my mind. And then it happens. A voice, an instruction, guidance.
STOP! TODAY, JUST STOP AND DO NOTHING!
For some reason, I know I must pay attention to this voice. It is the same voice that saved my life a few years before (but this is another story). I recognise the voice and I trust it, and so I stop. Actually, I apply the brakes, and stop slowly. I go onto YouTube and I find my favourite meditation, and for ten minutes I relax, but it's just not giving me the relief it normally does. I have an internal itch impossible to find, never mind scratch. I then glance to the left of the page, and I find videos of Gangaji, a wonderful spiritual teacher from the States. I have heard about this woman before but never really experienced her work. And so I begin to watch. And listen. And fixate on everything she's saying. Her teaching is nothing knew to me. But this time it's different. Maybe I'm different somehow. I watch, listen and absorb her transmission for five hours, and I feel so relaxed. I hear that her teacher, Papaji, told her to STOP, and DO NOTHING. I shiver at this, knowing that I have been guided to this same message. I feel different. I notice that my mind has quietened all by itself. I am fully aware of a palpable stillness all around me, and within me. I feel joy, a peace so beautiful that all I can do is laugh and smile. I have had beautiful spiritual experiences before, but they never last. Oh, how I want this to last.
The week passes by so beautifully. I am wrapped in a blanket of love. The world is soft, and all I feel is joy. Unconditional, not desired or begged for. Somehow I recognise that this unspeakable peace has always been there, and I realise that I have been hiding from it, barricaded behind the incessant activity of my seeking mind. I am aware of thoughts coming to me thick and fast, and I have emotional eruptions all over the place, but I am untouched by them all. I am experiencing the witness consciousness that I have read about. My work colleagues joke that I am losing my mind. I laugh, because it feels true. Even the ground I walk on feels soft. Life has become a haven of velvety soft richness. This is me. This is who I am. I float through the week, wanting nothing, my mind at peace, my heart so full of joy. I have arrived.
And then it happens. My destination disappears, and I feel lost. I try to recreate the velvety soft richness from memory, but it is lost to me. I try to create the role of the arrived peaceful soul. But it's all in vain. What a beautiful graceful week. What a teaching.
Today, my thoughts still swing from the profane to the sublime, from the putrid to the pure and yet I know that it is all okay. Behind, between and within the thoughts I know that I am free and I am loved and I can access these familiar states of grace almost at will. When the waves of life come crashing on my shores, I can take comfort in the knowing that I am enough to receive them all, no matter what they are. And this is enough for the little boy who thought he wasn't enough.
A few months ago I was taking a spiritual writing class; six weeks of delving into my life story, my spiritual beliefs and attitudes. This was an enlightening experience for me, and I would like to share one of my assignments with you. I hope that you enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.
These words are written on a clock on my living room wall. I've never paid this little clock any real attention before, and I find myself gazing at it, allowing my mind to fall back into itself, into the soft velvety richness of my heart. The clock battery has died, I notice, and the hands no longer move. It's like time has stood still. I smile at the irony of the message, and wonder what the clockmaker believed. Was he inviting us to take the time to be still, to stop and allow ourselves to allow the mystery of God to declare its presence? Was he reaching out to us in the hope that the clock would stop at the perfect moment, encouraging us to be still enough to know that we are GOD?
I honestly don't know what God is. I have found this assignment to be a huge pain in my a** and, for that, I am grateful. It has allowed me to really look at myself, highlighting the strategies I have adopted to deal with life. I have been an avoider. I have been a seeker, always searching for the perfect healing to remove my deep sense of loss and unworthiness. I have been chasing the light, and avoiding the shadow, always looking for some kind of salvation in a future utopian idea of love, light and divinity. I have been hijacked by my beliefs, deeply entrenched in the war-game of duality, never allowing myself to feel the deep pain of loss. I have hidden behind the idea of spirituality, of enlightenment, projecting myself into a future scenario where God will be my salvation. I'm exhausted by all of this. I want to be free.
I have had many beautiful spiritual experiences in my life, ranging from a 'peace that passeth understanding' to unimaginable joy. They have all reminded me that there is a deeply profound mystery that enfolds us all. These wonderful sign-posts have been an invitation to realise a greater truth, and for moments, even days and weeks, I have opened up, and God has claimed me. But like all experiences, they come and go, leaving me with a hunger, a desire for more. Then my mind comes in, strategising, creating beliefs that I can hide behind, creating a belief that tells me that everything will be wonderful. And deep in my heart, I know that it will be wonderful, because we have never left this state of wonder. My heart knows this. My mind tries to believe it. And this is where my tiredness comes in. Many strategies later, I know it is time to stop. I know that the clock on the wall is reminding me of a greater truth. I know that the voice in my heart telling me to stop is real. I know that I am tired of chasing the light.
I have faith in being still. Ever since my experience with Gangaji, I have come to know that when the mind is quiesced, the heart is allowed the freedom to open, unencumbered by ideas of right or wrong. When the mind is quiet, there is nowhere to hide. In this naked vulnerability, there is freedom. No running towards the light, nor escaping the shadow. It is real, and it is peaceful beyond measure. This is where I now place my faith, because it is my doorway to the deep mystery we call God.
My desire from now on is to be honest with myself. Sometimes I will fall short of this, and this is okay. I no longer want to hide behind beliefs, second-hand stories of how I should or shouldn't live my life, or behind ideas of spirituality or God. I want to embrace the richness of my existence, the light and the shadow, the self-love and the self-hatred, every wave of emotion and thought that passes through me. Maybe each of these waves will be a portal to the mysterious joy of being, an open door with a sign that says 'Welcome Home". I have been the avoider for far too long, playing the game of the wounded child and the spiritual seeker. It is time to embrace everything, every fluctuating wave of delight and despair. I know that I am enough to contain it all. Chasing the light, in search of perfection, all the while carrying a lifetime of shadow behind me. It is time to stop.
I was going to stop at this point, but a beautiful quote from Rumi has come to mind.
I have embedded healing energy into the video, so if you feel like a pick-me-up in the middle of the day, just turn it on and enjoy.
Ok, first blog post over and done with.