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My friend calls and asks, “What is going
on with you? I miss you when we are together.”
A few weeks ago, I could not have answered. Today,
it’s a different story. I know.
The night came upon me without notice. It slipped
in after a slow sunset sometime between spring and
summer. In the days that followed, the sunlight
angling off the poplars, at the edge of the field,
dropped at my soul’s gate like fine cut glass
and shattered. The dark night had settled in to
stay.
My dreams paint scenes of poverty, of coffers empty,
of credit cards expired. Relentless dreams bolt
me awake. The message is always the same. Change
or you will die. No evasive subtlety. You are loosing
your soul. You are giving away your essence. Reclaim
yourself before it is too late. This is a last warning.
I confess. There is a deep change going on. I am
in my seventh decade. There is still time, but time
is not infinity. The ‘later’ of all
those yesterdays knock on today’s door.
From my earliest years, I wanted the truth and
was awed by it. Most assuredly, I knew that truth
would find a way to burn an indelible mark, on my
forehead right between my eyeballs, for every one
to see. How would I live with that? What would they
do to me? I had heard of the Inquisition and of
the Un-American Activities Committee. My courage
did not run sufficiently deep. I was not born to
martyrdom. I did not want my inner life hung out
on the gossip line. I kept reams of truth to myself.
In less polite words, I learned to lie in order
to survive. Don’t tell the Gestapo where you
are hiding your Jewish friends!
Today, kicking and screaming, I have entered a
new transitional stage of being in my truth. I am
following its promptings, for I have no alternative.
The choice is unavoidable, not easy. I fear I may
not have the courage to act according to the truth
as it manifests especially in my Reiki meditation
in the early morning hours.
Alone in the third floor farmhouse attic, I experience
body-length Kundalini-like undulations from the
core. At first, I resisted. I remembered my brother’s
Grand Mal Seizures, my father’s Coronaries.
Then, as if reassured that I would not die in the
undertow, I went with the tide. I breathe and ride
the wave.
Like the proverbial atheist in the foxhole, I comfort
myself with my choice mantra. Come Holy Spirit;
fill the hearts of the faithful. I take for granted
that I am included among the faithful, at least
by desire.
There seems to be an unbinding that is initiated
from within. Without words, it calls for a radical
change in the way that I am on the outside. What
light am I hiding under the bushel basket?
Mystics write about the abyss as a requirement
to find one’s true self and to catch a reflected
glimpse of God. They talk about entering without
knowing; about acting without predictable outcomes;
about reaching out without assurance of either success
or failure. In simpler terms, the mystics teach
that the abyss is an exile in which we are stripped
of all intelligence and feeling, in which we know
nothing. I am haunted by these words of a contemporary
writer, whose name I forget at the moment. Stay
in your exile alone, I recall reading. Your soul’s
limitlessness must face God’s infinity. There
will never be perfection.
I am tempted by the allure of an extended stay
in a Trappist monastery, living in silence, surrounded
by the archetypal transcendent. I feel, not think,
that I am in the last stage of my life. The length
of time that I have left on this side is not the
issue. What is the issue, is that it is time for
me to die, down to the smallest matters, to what
is not my true self and to prepare for the greatest
passage while being more fully engaged in this world.
It has to do with my doing what I want to do from
the core, my mission, however selfish it may appear
or be.
Of late, I have dared to step out of the ordinary
and let myself be known in professional words and
deeds. I truly feel at home writing and teaching.
I was surprised that such extroverted activities
would flow naturally in this introverted time.
What do I know about anything? I do not have to
be right, or correct, or good; just in my truth
as I am. I only have to experience this in all of
its opposites.
Thank you for asking.
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