You Would Jump at Such an Opportunity, Wouldn’t You?

So, here’s the choice. We can stop here, now, and tread no further into the adventure of this lifetime, stunned into silence, by the storied fears within our heads, barren of exquisite feeling, satiated expression, and unqualified authenticity, inwardly aware, at least at some level, of what we have forsaken with our choosing, now and forever more, lost to this moment, this moment that only is. Or, we can walk, heads bowed low, into the mystery of life, willing to embrace life with all its ups and downs, its apparent triumphs and failures, knowing that only abundant head-on, breathless, living-out-loud can satisfy. We choose to be the expansive freedom that comes with our full consent to life, and enter into this adventure eyes wide open and raised to the heavens, our hearts laid bare upon the altar of YES. G. Gregory

Choice is such a loaded word, especially when you feel you have none, after all, if you felt you had a choice, you would jump at the opportunity for such a life, wouldn’t you? Is it possible that we really ‘choose’ lives of quiet desperation rather than choosing to step up to the plate and live life head-on, breathless, eloquently out loud?

What would it take to make such a choice? When I was imprisoned in my storied world of fear it didn’t seem like a choice. It felt more like a life-sentence—event, reaction, experience—event, reaction, experience—a giant mesmerizing revolving door. I couldn’t seem to break free of the drama, the constant dread of the next shoe to drop. I didn’t even know enough to know that I was caught in the door, going round and round. I just thought that this merry-go-round was life. If asked, I would have told you, “I would never have chosen this!”

Comfort kept me bottled up in my old patterns. The ‘known’ is a trickster. It sneakily makes you believe that life could always be much worse. The pasture next door may be greener but it’s full of weeds and snakes and holes. The trickster says, ‘Stay here where it is familiar, where you know the territory and what to expect”. Comfort is a guardian of fear. If I wasn’t so enamored of security and comfort I would have been more willing to chance living life fully out loud.

Was I choosing? As much as the old me would hate to admit it, yes, I was. I was choosing within a framework of fear and had no idea it was in control. My choice was unconscious, but it was choice.

As I write this, I am trying to recall the turning point, that moment in time when life changed, when that something clicked into place and I was no longer willing to maintain my personal status quo, that moment when I chose the road less traveled, and began to walk down the path to freedom. My moment of truth came when I chose to stand up against heartless treatment at work, offering my resignation, unwilling to continue with the program as it stood. The choice was conscious, although I didn’t fully understand what making it meant. Choosing to live out loud becomes easier after the first excursion and victim-hood wears much heavier than before.

This life lived out loud is what we all want, what we dream of, and beat ourselves unmercifully for not choosing. We know we are choosing lives of quiet desperation. We know it. As much as we try, we can’t hide from ourselves for long. Every time we get that feeling in our gut that says, ‘you’re doing it again’, we know we are the ones that let ourselves down. At a deep level, I knew that even before I knew I was caught in the revolving door.

My life as drama seems like a life-time ago, and yet, just yesterday, I found myself tense and insensitive—tied up in knots, although much smaller knots, knots none-the-less. The knots didn’t last. As soon as I stopped long enough to see what was happening, they dissolved with my seeing and acceptance. Still, they had found a way into the calm, wormed their way into awareness, and attempted to convince me of their worth, but again, I chose. I chose to live a life head-on, breathless, and on the edge of God’s envelope. I can’t do that with shards of fear hanging from my ankles. Sometimes I have to give it a little kick and shake it loose, like a puppy shaking off its bath, wiggling from the top of its head to the tip of its floppy tail. We can shake like that little dog and dislodge the fear that has us trapped within its spell. All we have to do is choose and let the shaking begin.

 

“What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliness, and say, ‘This life which you live must be lived by you once again and innumerable times more; and every pain and joy and thought and sigh must come again to you, all in the same sequence. The eternal hourglass will again and again be turned and you with it, dust of the dust!’ Would you throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse that demon? Or would you answer,’Never have I heard anything more divine’?” Friedrich Nietzsche (German classical scholar, philosopher, and critic of culture, 1844-1900)

 

 

Hidden Between the Lines

If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name in a Swiss bank. Woody Allen…Actor, comedian, & director (1935 – )

Lately I’ve been noticing bumper stickers. The one that recently has intrigued my attention and intention, starkly states it all, simply in two words, on two lines—Only God. At first when I read the missive, my mind added an interpretative twist, making it ‘Only My God’. This allowed my sense of rightness, my ego’s dearest friend, the ability to judge this simple little sticker as farther right than my rightness was left. I had no idea, what ideology had produced the sticker, but mind, in its need to compare and contrast, created a storyline with all the characters intact. It was amazing to watch how quickly it got to the judgment point. Snap! Now what? What’s next?

As the weeks flew by, I kept noticing bumper stickers and this little one—Only God—appeared in the watching each day, like a bad habit impossible to shake. I had only to get in my car and drive somewhere, anywhere, and there it was. Not one to overlook the synchronicity, I realized a message was hidden between the lines.

Since I had quickly seen the tragicomedy within my judgment, my story of rightness, I knew it wasn’t the hidden gem. There was more. I waited for God’s infinite grace—the teaching moment—and continued to read bumper stickers, devouring them with my curiosity. I love the one that says ‘Co-Exist’, with each letter written in a different symbol from the world’s religions. It always brings a smile for its creativity and its message. I like to read the stickers and then look at the person driving the car, to see if my story about the owner matches the reality. Sometimes it does. Other times, it’s like someone stole the car—so far off, it doesn’t make sense, to this mind at least.

It never fails that just about the moment I forget I’m awaiting a message, the message arrives. It also never fails to knock the wind right out of me, so clear, so precise, so obvious that any question of truth is absolved in the looking. The religions have always spoken this message—Only God, nothing more, just that—simply. It is the meaning of La illaha il allah—the language of Islam—no other god but God. Moses returned from the mountain and his encounter with the Divine with the words, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me”, burned into his tablet. The words are saying the same thing—Only God! They are messages from heaven, designed to awaken us, just like the simple little bumper sticker, just like every person we meet, every experience we encounter. The game is rigged when we are purposefully playing.

So what does ‘Only God’ mean? Recognizing that all words are interpretation and can act as pointers to that which is Truth, the reality that coursed through me, was there is ‘Only God’. There is nothing else but God. When I look at you and see the earth, the body of flesh and blood, I murder you. I murder God. There is only God. When I look at you and see ideas and theories, I steal from you, I steal your magnificence. I also murder myself, steal from myself in the moment I deny you your divinity. All ideas are of flesh and blood, the earth. All theories are the same—just dirt. All differences, a fusion of earth. They are of the animal within—the body, nothing more. When we cling to our rightness, we choose our little gods of mind, and refuse That which Is, God.

As I was dropping opinions, dismantling old notions and presumptions, basically taking apart all I had created, all I valued, all I railed against, I gained an understanding of who we really are. I had, what I see now to be, just a glimpse of our true magnificence. Shredding the mind’s story leaves one, in that in-between place, like a babe in the woods, uncertain which path to follow, and not caring, or worried in the least. But, with the love of the most amazing teacher, I had already given my heart back to the Divine, so my path was determined. Now, as I give, and re-give, my mind over to God, seeing the Holy in all things, I find myself torn apart and so miraculously, grateful for the tearing.

Last week, at a Board of Directors intensive at Inei-Re, I was given a whole new understanding of Truth, and a broader glimpse, for it can only be a glimpse ever-changing, ever-widening, into the truth of our magnificence. I sat in circle and something within acknowledged the God-light in each one present. Bathed in wonder as the presence of each expanded, my sense of self intensified and opened out as well. The light of each cracked me open, further, further than mind believed possible, for this was beyond mind. As I expanded into the light, it broke me apart as tears welled through my body. The light that I am, lifted into the heavens and returned, intensely, and spread out to enfold the others sitting in circle, like a wave brushing up against the rock shore. It reached them, caressed them, and folded back on itself returning to me, lifting me again to the spaciousness of mindless ‘Yes—Only God’, and with each wave, washed away pieces of old programming, cleared nerves of residue, no longer useful.

Only afterwards, did I understand what had happened. We are in a mix, constantly interacting with the divine of each. We use the pure light energy of each other to heal ourselves, to cleanse the nerves of all that is held, of our little gods, even when we are not consciously aware of being this light. It is what we are, whether we know it or not. It was clear that each of us supports all others. We are a supporting force. Our light always shines even though our fears or doubts prevent us from seeing clearly. We can shake loose of the ‘my-nd’s’ ties that bind, by simply remembering two words—Only God. The parable about caring for strangers, embracing each visitor at your door, of seeing Christ in every person we meet, is much more than parable. It is truth. When I was willing to extend this to all others, an amazing thing happened. The gate opened. What I searched for was found.

For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ Matthew 25, 42-45