An Enlightenment Bulb Moment ...

Wind in your hair
Originally uploaded by **Ally**
Oprah has coined the phrase: "A-ha" moments. Prior to this, there was the "Lightbulb" moment. Or, the more commercial "I coulda had a V-8 !" All of these are forms of being woke up in some way. This morning, as I read on my porch, I had the Mothership of these kinds of awakenings, which I will call the "Enlightenment Bulb" moment.

It was one page. A passage from my teacher Jason's book. And the awareness was blindingly shimmering. It was like one last puzzle piece to the Fearing the Unknown jigsaw that I have been working on for several years now. Here are some key statements from Jason's passage: "Going into the unknown is going into knowledge that is original. Experience that is original cannot be arrived at by comparison, which is where most of our learning comes from, dredged up from memory, contrasting one thing with another ... The next time you are in the unknown in any way, instead of thinking 'I'm lost' - which is knowledge from some other time or place or person -- think, 'I am free. There are no ideas or concepts that are binding me. Let's see what's here.' "

Holy Crap.

Everytime I have entered what I deemed to be the "terror-filled place of the Unknown"  it is because I  compared it to the knowledge of my history and the story that I held: "The Unknown is Dangerous." This could be considered a "Morph" in my healing school terminology. I relied on knowledge, always, that was from some other time period (usually my childhood), some other place and some other people. And, as I would anticipate facing the Unknown or eventually being in the Unknown, I would absolutely feel lost. I sometimes described it as an endless vast canyon or utter pitch-black darkness. I created a sense of lostness each and everytime because I based my reactions to what was known in my past.

I have been in relationship to the Unknown as of recent months in a totally new way. It has been less scary, bearable, and there have been visible rays of light in the mystery. Today's passage brings it home in the hugest of ways for me. In this place that I am entering and do not have knowledge of, I can be an explorer, an adventurous and curious navigator, with my flashlight of Presence, checking out what is here. Each trip into the Unknown is new territory that has not yet been charted until I consciously decide to investigate. The outdated maps can be discarded; they were based on old routes which led me to dark places and ultimately nowhere.   And, this will also help alleviate anxiety and worry, because I used to anticipate winding up in one of these dark places based on my previous trips !

I am not lost in the Unknown. I am FREE.

As Good as it Gets ...

Yummy!!
Originally uploaded by booboo1604
Holiday weekends when I was an alcoholic represented one thing: MORE time to get drunk. I lived for Memorial, July 4th, and Labor Day weekends in particular. I would plan days, perhaps weeks ahead, for the amount of beer and liquor and other paraphanalia I needed to stock up on. I have little to no memories of most of these holidays -- who with, where they were spent. Like the TV screen when programming has ended for the night and there's just the fuzzy picture with no sound.

A gift of recovery is appreciating the fullness and clarity of a weekend such as this one. And all the little things that can be enjoyed without being completely wasted, in a blackout, or painfully hungover. How I spent my day today is a perfect example.

I took the dog for a long walk this morning and did one of my healing practices in the field surrounded by woods about a half mile from my home. This practice, in and of itself, brought me vividly into relationship with the beauty that has always been here, yet which was totally absent from my view of life as an alcoholic. The scent of honeysuckle, the varying melodies of the birds, the feel of grass between my toes, the graceful flight patterns of butterflies. I then spent an hour on the phone with a classmate from my healing program to talk about this very practice. The afternoon found me with good friends, soaking up the glorious sunshine while grilling amazing food and savoring even more flavorful, nourishing conversations. This was my last Sunday for the coffee commitment at my AA meeting and it was lovely to be in a room filled with friends who didn't want to take a drink on a Holiday weekend. The "nightcap" was having ice cream cones with my sponsee and a friend from the fellowship to celebrate her 4 months of sobriety today. We sat under the clear, star-filled sky, appreciating another day sober together.

One day at  time.  This is as good as it gets ...

In Memorial ...

US Marine Corps Memorial
Originally uploaded by <wikd>
Memorial: "Something intended to celebrate or honor the memory of a person or an event." ~ American Heritage Dictionary

I never truly understood the meaning of Memorial Day as a young person or even as a young adult. I viewed it as a 3 day weekend, which provided an extra day of partying, another excuse to drink longer and harder.

The true meaning of Memorial Day is to commemorate the soldiers who lost their lives fighting to defend our country.

I spoke with my mother early this morning on my way to teach a class. She shared with me that she would be attending the Memorial Day Service at the graveyard where my father is buried. And how she ordered red carnations to put on his grave. What I didn't know is that she's been doing this every year since he died nearly 17 years ago. I had no idea. I didn't even think to ask.

My father was a Marine. He fought in the Korean War in the early 50's. He lost nearly all of his friends. My mother often has remarked that he came home a completely and forever changed man.

I have never returned to the cemetary where my father's body lies. It is not that I do not wish to honor him; it is about the meaning of the location. For me, these are places where bodies decay underground, these outer coverings that encased the "beingness" of humans while they were here on the earth plane, and that the true "residence" a person's soul occupies in the afterlife is not anywhere that is tangible. A Memorial at a cemetary does not feel like a true tribute to a person's essence, but rather it is a concrete (no pun intended) destination for people still here to visit the dead -- as if there is a special connection to the rotting bones six feet under.
I am fully aware as I write in this moment that my own issues of transference are very activated -- particularly around burial grounds and those who hold them in high regard as the primary place to make contact with the deceased.

The way in which I have chosen to memorialize my father is to practice forgiveness toward him in any way I am able. This includes how I share about his alcoholism in AA meetings I attend and in the ways I talk about memories I have about him with family members. I have worked over the past year or so to stop being disparaging and resentful in how I recall my relationship with him. I have softened a great deal toward my father -- primarily because of my healing work but also because I can more fully understand the impact and the damaging effects of war on his psyche. I really do have compassion for him when I think about the inner turmoil he battled in his own mind everyday and how alcohol was used to erase those graphic tapes.

I realize that my mother needs to ease her own burdens of guilt and remorse of outliving and moving on without my father and so she fulfills this obligation of visiting his grave on Memorial Day. It feels to some extent that she may do this so that she can be forgiven -- by him, by God -- for how much she resented, even hated him for his drinking and how he treated her.

So my mother will place her red carnations on the concrete slab and be with my father in her own way. I, on the other hand, will think about the man who lost his innocence by doing what was expected of him and that this was more than just an admirable sacrifice for his country -- he lost the person he once was. And for that, I honor my father's memory.

Calm in the Eye of the Storm ...

Sparky Shortgrass Prairie
Originally uploaded by Fort Photo
Driving home tonight from my favorite women's meeting, there was such a fury in the sky. Lightening streaks everywhere, rain falling hard, then suddenly nothing. Wind blowing wildly in places, then not. The threat of hail was pending, according to the radio forecast, with a severe storm warning in effect.

In the midst of the chaos of the heavens, I felt a deep peace. Like the calm that is described in the "eye" of a hurricane. Swirling frenzy on the outside, eerie stillness on the inside. In Kabbalistic terms, this would be the place of "O-ghen" ... steady, anchored, pausing. Sitting in this place, I can see the whirl of activity surrounding me and yet not be compelled to chase, fix, control or stop it. I felt this while in my car making the trek home in the midst of this storm; it was not about being in the shelter of the car, but rather the safe haven I have learned to create within myself. A statement that comes up for me is: "I trust myself to bear this."

Earlier today, I had a brief meeting with my boss at the University where I am an adjunct faculty. I called this meeting with her to get feedback about how she regarded me as a member of her teaching team. I have received "hot and cold" messages from her based on how I am viewed by her tenured full-time faculty versus by student consensus. Sitting in her office, she flitted about like a nervous butterfly, desperately looking for just the right flower petal to land on. She combed through piles on her desk, shuffling papers, barely able to make eye contact with me. I watched and observed this human tornado spin circles around me, while I sat steady and still in the vortex. I was able to respond and not react to her. I was clear and direct in my statements. Having an expected outcome from this discussion was not my mission; maintaining my integrity was.

Nestled in this place of stillness enabled me to stay with myself, to know what my needs were, to hear my own inner voice. I recognize how, in the past, I would be dragged into the hail-laden, wind-whipping cyclone of another's fury. I would frantically try to keep up with and manage and control everything that was blowing around. I would get swept up and literally lose my balance in the other's messiness, not knowing what was mine or what was theirs. Then desperately attempt to make sense of all the pieces that had been strewn around. The efforting to do this was both exhausting and dizzying.

To be calm in the eye of the storm is about taking impeccable care of oneself and one's interior. There are clear boundaries about where one person's still center begins and ends and where another's pelting rain and wind begin and end -- thereby, no confusion of inside and outside. There are not sudden or impulsive movements outward from this place because there is an understanding of how easily it is to be tossed and turned about, unable to maintain equilibrium. There is keen, sharp presence without hypervigilance. It is knowing what the danger is "out there" and making the decision to "stay here". It requires patience and steadfastness to ride out the turbulence and not get jolted by it. There are no frantic attempts to be saved, rescued ... just staying in the "zone" of one's truest self.

Fired Up for the Future ...

MANGIAFUOCO
Originally uploaded by squarzenegger
I was listening to an astrologer's podcast this morning. She spoke of a major planetary shift at the beginning of June. This shift moves the energies of the heavens from water to fire. It is a birthing time and a letting go time simultaneously. It is a time of initiating and re-fueling and creating.

As I steeped myself in her words, I arrived at a new level of awareness about my Future Self. Astrologists offer guidance and predictions based on planetary movements. The Future Self, as I believe I am understanding, offers guidance too based on the predicted movements of our changing beings, our shifting interiors, our new relationships to the situations of life. The Future Self, as with the Astrologer, has a pulse on these ever-changing dynamics and acts like a compass -- if we are willing to take direction.

In thinking about the Future Self, I also had a revelation that brings great clarity to my healer/teacher Brenda's words from her initial lecture 2 summer seasons' ago about the Future Self. This statement was the last thing I was able to write or take in from her lecture before experiencing a significant shattering: "The Future Self is sad." What I understand now is this: the Future Self is sad because she sees the beauty of what is happening in the present and is acutely aware of its impermanence. The sadness is in the exquisteness of this very moment and the fact that it will no longer exist in a future moment. The Future Self is the keeper of the not-yet-known in the present time.

Back to the astrological forecast: if all of our Future Selves are aligned with the planetary movements AND we are paying close attention to this guidance deep within, then we are preparing to some extent for the motherload of a birthing process ! We are getting fired up for the Future ! It feels exciting and scary and adventurous and dangerous all at the same time.

How interesting and how NOT-coincidental it is that I would be exploring my relationship to the unknown just within the past few days ... I feel a connection to my Future Self and to this fire deep in my belly and to a deep letting go of what have been my "knowns" and an opening, a birthing to what is not yet known.

In the company of Divine Beings ...

Divinity
Originally uploaded by ZEDZAP

This morning I read a powerful passage from my teacher Jason's book; it is about the fact that, as humans and part of our society, we learn a rule: "you shall not know that you are a divine being". In his final paragraph, Jason assures the reader of the following: "... if you begin to understand it [being a divine being] even a little, I assure you, Eden will resurrect itself right where you are standing, and you will be ready to eat the fruit with God's blessing."

After reading this and closing the book, I stood in my kitchen trembling in awe. I don't believe I had ever considered the possibility of being a divine being until I was well into my 2nd even 3rd year of our non-dual healing school. It was surely, as he pointed out, never knowledge I had been given by anyone in my life before coming into this healing community.

Tonight, at one of my favorite AA meetings, I had the great pleasure of hearing one of our newest member's stories told for his very first time; he has a little over 4 months of sobriety. Before he was even half-way through, I was absolutely aware that I was witnessing the presence of a divine being, beyond a shadow of a doubt. That he was here before us to be able to tell his story was a complete miracle. The tears streamed down my face as he uncovered each layer of his painful wounds, from childhood sexual abuse to the formation of dissociative identity disorder to alcoholic drinking by the age of 14 to mob-related activity and revolving jail visits. How he is still alive is beyond comprehension. He is the epitome of "but for the grace of God ..."

As each of us shared after his story, there were few dry eyes or words uttered without quivering. We have come to adore this young man, with his wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights, innocence and gentle nature. Little did any of us know the hell he'd endured to arrive through the doors of AA. As one member poignantly shared: "Each of our stories has its fateful twists and turns, none any worse than the other. What matters most is that the story that got us here will keep us here."

I hugged this young man tighter than on any other Tuesday evening. I looked him in the eyes, my hand on his shoulder, and thanked him for his courage and his honesty. So moved were many of us, that we lingered outside for a long time, taking in the bright shimmer of the full moon out on the church lawn. We were each inspired and touched by the story we heard tonight, some of us recalling our own tarnished histories while others revelling in the miracles we each are.

Tonight, more than ever before, I am aware of my own divinity.
I saw her grace-filled reflection in the company of these Divine Beings.

The "Wanting Self" ...

053 - Feb 22 - Yearning & Thoughtful
Originally uploaded by ladybugrock
"We are not free when we are doing just what we like.
We are only free when we are doing what the deepest self likes.
It takes some diving."
~ D.H. Lawrence

An odd place to have delved into some deep spiritual work today transpired while I was on jury duty. A lot of endless sitting and waiting this afternoon as 39 jurors were being grilled through the selection process created the perfect opportunity for me to get some reading and journaling accomplished.

I brought with me Tara Brach's "Radical Acceptance". I immersed myself in the chapter about Desire; here, she introduces the concept of the "wanting self". Interestingly enough, she uses examples of people with issues of addiction to illustrate this. When desire is desperate and unquenchable, the "wanting self" craves, often with urgency. What Tara notes, however, is that the shame that accompanies one's giving into cravings, as with a compulsive overeater, can be attributed to the rejection of desire. The key to love and aliveness, on the other hand, is how we are in relationship to desire. There must be tenderness held for our "wanting self".

"Longing, felt fully, carries us to belonging." Tara's words echo the sentiments of what is taught in non-dual healing. Everything has a place and a right to exist, fully, in order to have wholeness.

So, as I sat in the courtroom this afternoon, I examined the aspects of my "wanting self". I wrote the following in my journal:
The unknown is an area of my life where I feel compelled by my wanting self's mind. I can experience anxiety, urgency, irritation when I am faced with situations where there are not many "knowns". I used to feel very fearful, threatened by these kinds of circumstances. I urgently wanted the unknowns to become knowns. I recognize that my little one was the driving force behind this kind of behavior and, as she became exposed in my intimate relationships, I felt great shame and embarassment for her actions. Today, the unknowns do not carry the kind of sanctions or weight that I assigned to them in the past. I am aware of the ripples inside me that occur when I am encountering an unknown and I have learned to practice more tenderness toward my little one's reactions inside and can say things like: "This scared feeling right now is not your fault. This can be here. We can make some room for this mysterious visitor." I am aware of another side to this as well: when I am not fully present to the reactions I am experiencing toward to the unknown, I act in unconscious ways. It can take the form of projecting anger or irritation onto the "source" of the unknown situation. Example: "Why is s/he doing this?" "Oh, here we go again with _____". I may even project onto God or the Universe: "Why are you letting ______ happen like this ?" When I am present, however, I am brought more into relationship with God when I can turn one of these projections over: "God, can you help me hold _____ or help me accept why ______ is happening." In this way, I can embrace my wanting self, rather than shrink from it or want to make it disappear.

Such unexpected treasures uncovered in the midst of a dreary courtroom. No one was hurt, no prisoners taken. Freedom abounds !