I can unconsciously get caught up in the capitalistic, patriarchal need to pursue, to do, to prove myself. To prove I am worthy of my existence. I often find myself pursuing my spiritual practices so I can awaken more, getting caught up in the belief I must awaken more to fulfill my life’s purpose.
I can relentlessly pursue healing from complex post-traumatic stress as a way to better myself, to make myself more whole, to fix myself. Even after many awakenings and recognizing I am whole as I am, my mere existence is my worth; I still get caught in the need to pursue. I see in this need deep roots of the belief that something is wrong with me, and the deep roots of trauma induced shame. My heart collapses and contracts to protect myself from the pain of feeling like a failure, and then through some moment of grace, I remember that every breath I take proves the worth of my existence. Nothing more is needed.
I often recall the words of a beloved teacher who once told me that the human heart is infinite, it is our birthright. I call on my ability to sense the infinite capacity of my human heart and to feel that infinite capacity, I must slow way down.
I remember again to drop the pursuing as it causes me to contract my being and I am unable to know the infinite capacity of my heart. So, I slow down. I let go the pursuing. I accept all my experience exactly as it is. In the slowing down, the sensation is as if all of space is rushing to meet me and there all of infinite space is available to me and I can accommodate the all the sensations of my expansive, sensing human heart.
It is my experience we are all elements of Source, or urges of Source, seeking to know themself more. Source awakens further through our awakening.
I then asked myself what might be awakening through Source? What is the Source of Source? An ongoing question, within and without.
My cross-country skiing looks like cross-country shuffling. My ukulele playing sometimes sounds like fourth grade band room. My dancing looks like nerdy, rural, white girl.
Yet, to me my cross-country skiing feels like gliding and sometimes when it's just right for a few feet, it feels like lying. To me my ukulele playing makes me happy. I marvel when my fingers finally move smoothly over a riff, and I smile as a chord rings true. To me, my dancing feels like emergent moving impulse taking form through my body. The stuttered expression of rhythm sending shivers down my spine.
In all things, no matter what, be kind to yourself. Regardless of what you said, of the actions you took, or the hurt or harm you may have caused, be kind to yourself. Regardless of what has been done to you, be kind to yourself. Life, and the world will throw enough stones, will seek to persecute and crucify you, will punish you, and will demean you. You don’t need to add anything. So, in all things, be kind to yourself.
A thought and a prayer for the new year. May your consciousness continue to grow and awaken. May you know freedom within your own being. May you touch and know joy. May you be grounded and weather all the storms that come your way. May that which breaks your heart also open your heart to deeper capacity.
Recently I watched a recording of Adyashanti in which he suggested to “contemplate complete silence” as a portal into deeper awakening, into deeper relationship with what he refers to as the “ground of being”. I’ve been exploring this over the last few days. First, I discovered it is helpful to remind myself that no amount of efforting on my part will open me to complete silence. The suggestion to “contemplate” initially lead me to effort through my analytical, rational brain to find complete silence. While I enjoy engaging in deep, analytical process, that, for me, is not the way to complete silence. Rather than settling, engaging the analytical had me chasing after what I thought the experience of complete silence would be, and also feeling my environment needed to be completely silent in order to contemplate it. Even though I live alone in a rural setting, complete silence is rarely, readily available.
I thought, then, to trust that complete silence already and always is.