Part of any spiritual journey includes a few epiphanies--touches of grace--sometimes painful, sometimes ecstatic. The past 24 hours has brought me a couple of epiphanies--in turns painful and ecstatic. As a recovered alcoholic, I know that I cannot find freedom by looking at what's been done to me--whatever truths lie there are incomplete (because they are viewed from the lens of the ego) and ultimately have nothing to do with me. In order to be free, I must look at me.
That was the painful epiphany--but such a welcome one, because now that I've seen it, I can be free of it. In looking at this past year, I had to recognize my own part, my complicity in creating the circumstances and environments that invited pain into my life. And though it was hard to see, it also brought with it such empowerment--now I can simply quit doing what I was doing! I can change! (Not that it's that easy, but it's a beginning.)
The second epiphany brought with it a touch of grace. In recognizing my own part, I realized I no longer had to make 'him' into the 'bad guy'. It wasn't necessary. I'm not angry. In fact, I'm just relieved. The samskara is completed, finished, done. My prayers for him and myself have worked.
But an even deeper transformation has happened than just being able to release that particular samskara, that particular attachment to him, my beloved. I feel in some way that my attachment to the kind of woman I have been, lifetime after lifetime, has been lifted. The clinging, smothering, needing to be saved persona has been healed. I am rightly aligned and my state of longing has been lifted, relieved. I am content. There's no longer that sense of gnawing emptiness, instead it's a sensation of the hollow reed--Shiva's flute. I am lighter. I am brighter. I am free.
I am blissful. And I wish him and all of us, really, only happiness. True happiness and peace and love--the Big Love--and a state of falling into grace, falling into the arms of the True Beloved, within.
I've started playing tennis again. It's been years, more than I care to admit, and I was never very good to begin with; but it just feels good to get out and sweat. It's funny that the simple act of hitting the ball back over the net can make you feel so good, but there it is.
Last night I met a local who was playing against the wall. We hit a few balls back and forth. Good fun. I have a new tennis partner--and hopefully playing against him will improve my game a bit quicker than I had hoped.
Trusting in love
Remember: love without trust and trust without love
means nothing. Love is nothing but infinite trust. Infinite
trust is nothing but love. --Yogi Bhajan
So this past year has taught me a lot about myself, about my weaknesses and my strengths. I used to be so angry when I was deceived by the one I love. I used to hate myself for trusting. But as I've grown older, and been through it several times, I began to realize that there is nothing wrong with my trust, or my faith, there's nothing in myself to be angry about--instead, I was deceived. They lied, they misled me, they betrayed me. The only thing that I need to learn from and change is that instead of walking away, I give them another chance, and another, and another. I abandon myself and my own instincts--in order to "love".
But if what Yogi Bhajan says is true--which I believe--then love without trust cannot exist. What I believe is love is just my own attachment to what I thought would be or could be or wanted to be--not what actually is.
My journey now is to trust in love and it has to begin with myself. Do I love myself enough to not abandon myself? Do I love myself enough to trust that I deserve only the best? Do I trust myself, do I trust God enough to wait? We shall see what we shall do.
Until then, keep your eyes on the one that sustains us all and turn them inward before you fall.
Giving and Taking--Stopping and Starting
I have a long history of giving myself to people who for their own reasons don't want to receive me. I give and give and give and they take when they're in the mood or when it serves their own ends. For a long time I berated myself--back and forth and back and forth--for why I'm built this way. But then I realized, this is my Mother Nature; my inherent, natural capacity; my Shakti power; it is who I am as a woman. There's nothing wrong in the giving--only in the choice of the object to give it to. So, on my way to Santa Fe last night I found my self repeating aloud--at the top of my lungs--I give myself permission to give myself to the one who wants to receive me.
One of my teachers says that I should quit trying to choose an object--and just give, just love. Be the goddess that gives freely, without discrimination. But my ego is attached to the idea of one--that special one--to give myself to. I don't know what's in the cards, but for now, I do know that life is too short to continue offering myself to those who don't want what's offered. I'm sure they get more tired of refusing than I do of offering--so I'm stopping. I'm just stopping.
Wow--I already feel more relaxed. The greatest gift of my trip to India (which I know I've been remiss in sharing my stories here--apologies--but work is a bit overwhelming since my return) was the deep, panic-driven, god-shaped hole was either filled or removed. I have a sense of completeness, wholeness, integrity that I haven't felt since I was a child. The restlessness dropped away, the need. But this old habit continues to emerge from my subconscious--this thought that believes it needs something outside myself, this thought that continually takes me down dead-end streets, this thought that gets me lost in the wilderness. So, I'm stopping the thought. I'm stopping the action that comes from the thought. And eventually, I may be able to let go of whatever it is in me that causes the thought in the first place. Until then, I'm staying stopped.
And I'm starting something new . . . . more will be revealed.