Wednesday, April 26, 2017
The death of an old dream
It is inevitable at times that the rug will be pulled out from underneath us, and we will come face to face with the naked, tender, glory, and mess of what it means to be an alive, sensitive human being. Things will fall apart, old dreams will die, relationships will end, and the allies of deflation and disappointment will dance in our hearts. Before we spin into the trance of shame, blame, unworthiness, and defeat, let us turn into the brokenness where the particles of aliveness await.
It is tempting to become convinced that something has gone wrong, that we have failed, this time as a good spiritual person. “Spiritual” people don’t experience anxiety, depression, rage, jealousy, fear, and hopelessness … right? What about staying the now? Stuffing the rage and forgiving everyone before you’ve digested the deep pain that was caused? Accepting and loving everything that appears without first confronting the heartbreak? Repressing the grief and replacing it with a consistent flowing gratitude for all that is. Clearly something has gone wrong … hasn't it?
Inside the deflation is a hidden truth that the path of the heart is not oriented in how we can manufacture a life where this does not happen, where we can remain safe and untouchable on the sidelines, in some transcended (dissociated?) state … for periodic eruptions of the beloved and her unknown emissaries is wired into this particular star. The rippling encounter with the tender and the groundlessness is not an indication that something is wrong with you, but is high-voltage evidence that you are alive. For this disenchantment is the prima materia that he or she has to reach you. These are no ordinary moments. This world needs alive women and men, now more than ever. Please stay awake.
Rather, the question during these times is: are you going to use these reorganizing and shattering experiences as vehicles though which to befriend yourself, to attune to the unprecedented flow of feeling with you, and to weave a sanctuary for the wisdom-pieces of the broken world to be held and illuminated? Or, will you fall back into your habitual, conditioned history, attack yourself, your tenderness, and your sacred vulnerability, spinning into the habitual fight-flight urgency of shame, blame, resentment, and self-aggression?
It is not pleasant when the rug is pulled out and old dreams collapse, as this activity seeds the experiential field with the radical, fierce envoys of deflation and disappointment, who are here to reorganize, not to maintain the status quo. But it was never the status quo that you were after any way. You’re just too wild for all that.
Seen with an open heart and perception that is cleansed, you will apprehend this reorganization as a wrathful form of grace, filled with a light that is only found in the core of the dark—preparing, marinating, and opening you into something beyond what you’re currently able to imagine … arranging the particles so that the mystery of what you are may fully come alive here.
Art by David Ho
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