Every morning I awaken with a deep and consuming desire to know my Source more and more intimately. It is a longing that feels much bigger and way stronger than me. It is there, persistently, each and every day. No matter how much more profoundly I feel the Source frequency in my heart and in my being there is a call inside of me for more.
Always and in all ways it is calling for more. More depth, more intimacy, more union, more merging, more God. I want to be a wave that goes back down into the Sea of One.
I surf these feelings each day in deep appreciation of where I am and where I am being called to dwell. I recognize in wonder that as this pull, this desire is so much bigger and stronger than me, I am being desired by Source Itself! I am being called home to Source and to Self. The Will of the One is moving in me, beseeching me, inviting and cajoling me to say yes to What It Is. I am being called to experience the depth of What I am. Source is longing to know the fullness of Itself. This is a ceaseless longing that cannot ever be fully suppressed. It does not seek to dominate, but it does ask for cooperation. It asks for co-creation. It asks that the separate sense of self be surrendered in service of a grand awakening into the Universal One.
There were times in my life when I could not tolerate longing, especially longings for which I could not force fulfillment. Now I relish this tension. I know that the initiation of the longing is also the source of its fulfillment. And so I court this feeling. I lean into it. I breathe it and I open fully into it. It is my prayer. The longing is my prayer. The desire is my prayer. The beseeching is my prayer. And I say yes.
Not just with my head. Prayer is not of my head. It is an embodied yes, a vulnerable yes, a wide-open yes. I am not interested in a God-concept in my head. I’ve been there and it was cold and deadening. I am saying yes to a God-movement in my heart and in my body. I want an untamed mysticism coursing through me as Love Itself.
I want to be out of control with desire, out of control with this ceaseless longing. I want my prayer to be an out of control opening into a deep, intimate experience of What Source is as It becomes fulfillment in me. That is why I am here. That is my purpose. That is my passion.
And so every morning I awaken to a deep and consuming desire to know my Source. And every morning and throughout each day I say yes to allowing my Source to live as me. I release control and I lean into the love. My life is a prayer of Yes.
And so it is.
Thursday, June 22, 2017
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
THE WAIL
I grew up with the “if you don’t stop crying I will give you something to cry about” style of parenting. I am beyond needing to judge that. I had parents who rarely allowed themselves to cry, and couldn’t abide by seeing their children cry either. I know that the cry-aversion was then amped up by being born male. “Big boys don’t cry.” Regardless.
Trying to apply those directives was for years nothing less than excruciating. Male or not I was born with a sensitive heart that had direct access to my tear ducts. My natural response was to cry when I was happy, cry when I was sad, cry when I witnessed any type of heroism or transcendence. Though I tried myriad ways to suppress those inclinations my attempts only led to a temporary deadening of not only those feelings, but all feelings in the emotional spectrum. For me to deeply feel was to frequently be led to tears. When I attempted to mitigate that impulse I paid a huge energetic price. Life became gray. I lost access to compassion, to joy, and to deeper levels of love. In disconnecting from my natural emotional language I lost the power of felt connection. I disengaged. I unplugged. Though there was an illusion of safety in that there was also a feeling of death.
I am grateful today to allow full access to my heart-centered response to life. That response includes a fair amount of tears. To keep it real with you my readers it also includes a not so infrequent sob. Alright, even an occasional wail. I am a big boy AND I cry. And whether I choose to cry or not in any given circumstance there seems to be no shortage in life of things to cry about. And I have found that the ability to be able to live deeply enough to allow for a full and even holy-water response to life is a gift beyond measure. It is evidence to me that I am alive and that I am fully engaged. That life is touching me and I am allowing it to do so. My tears are evidence that my heart is open and my compassion is flowing. To live in a world or guns, violence, terrorism, brutality, bigotry, and inequality brings me to tears. I don’t personally aspire to be deadened to it or disengaged from it. I know it is the realm of the relative, but it is that realm that I as a human am a part of. I watch the things happening in our world and my sensitive heart hurts. Tears come to my eyes as droplets of caring. Sometimes I even just have to let myself ugly cry. And sometimes it is beauty that brings about an almost equal torrent.
As I look at this world today I feel as if we as cosmic citizens need to allow for a full and unedited collective wail. A wail that is loud and messy and unrestrained. I feel as if it would go a long way to acknowledging and so healing the collective pain we have tried to deaden and endure. Our separation from our deeper selves, from our collective pain, from our common humanity needs to be grieved. It’s either that or we will continue to act out on the rage that comes from the inability to be with our sadness.
What would it be like to allow for a good, long, unsuppressed, collective wail? The whole of the human family joining to cry our substantial grief and to finally give way to the sadness that has accumulated for centuries? How might we hold each other in the process? What might be available on the other side? Peace. Maybe on the other side of the wail there will be peace. The stillness that follows a storm will fall upon our hearts and on our earth. Violence will cease and harmony will prevail.
The thought of such beauty brings me to tears.
Trying to apply those directives was for years nothing less than excruciating. Male or not I was born with a sensitive heart that had direct access to my tear ducts. My natural response was to cry when I was happy, cry when I was sad, cry when I witnessed any type of heroism or transcendence. Though I tried myriad ways to suppress those inclinations my attempts only led to a temporary deadening of not only those feelings, but all feelings in the emotional spectrum. For me to deeply feel was to frequently be led to tears. When I attempted to mitigate that impulse I paid a huge energetic price. Life became gray. I lost access to compassion, to joy, and to deeper levels of love. In disconnecting from my natural emotional language I lost the power of felt connection. I disengaged. I unplugged. Though there was an illusion of safety in that there was also a feeling of death.
I am grateful today to allow full access to my heart-centered response to life. That response includes a fair amount of tears. To keep it real with you my readers it also includes a not so infrequent sob. Alright, even an occasional wail. I am a big boy AND I cry. And whether I choose to cry or not in any given circumstance there seems to be no shortage in life of things to cry about. And I have found that the ability to be able to live deeply enough to allow for a full and even holy-water response to life is a gift beyond measure. It is evidence to me that I am alive and that I am fully engaged. That life is touching me and I am allowing it to do so. My tears are evidence that my heart is open and my compassion is flowing. To live in a world or guns, violence, terrorism, brutality, bigotry, and inequality brings me to tears. I don’t personally aspire to be deadened to it or disengaged from it. I know it is the realm of the relative, but it is that realm that I as a human am a part of. I watch the things happening in our world and my sensitive heart hurts. Tears come to my eyes as droplets of caring. Sometimes I even just have to let myself ugly cry. And sometimes it is beauty that brings about an almost equal torrent.
As I look at this world today I feel as if we as cosmic citizens need to allow for a full and unedited collective wail. A wail that is loud and messy and unrestrained. I feel as if it would go a long way to acknowledging and so healing the collective pain we have tried to deaden and endure. Our separation from our deeper selves, from our collective pain, from our common humanity needs to be grieved. It’s either that or we will continue to act out on the rage that comes from the inability to be with our sadness.
What would it be like to allow for a good, long, unsuppressed, collective wail? The whole of the human family joining to cry our substantial grief and to finally give way to the sadness that has accumulated for centuries? How might we hold each other in the process? What might be available on the other side? Peace. Maybe on the other side of the wail there will be peace. The stillness that follows a storm will fall upon our hearts and on our earth. Violence will cease and harmony will prevail.
The thought of such beauty brings me to tears.
Thursday, June 1, 2017
HURTING PEOPLE HURT
I have often heard it said that hurting people hurt people. I do suppose that it is true. What we do not transform we will indeed transmit. What I am not able to really be with internally will become an external target. It is unfortunate at a deep level, and yet there is a deeper truth to this that most often goes unacknowledged.
While hurting people hurt other people in the process of becoming conscious it is also hurting people who help others at the deepest and most profound levels. A big part of my spiritual awakening has been about increasing the capacity to sit with and to stay with the pain surrounding my heart. I grieve the number of people that became targets of my projected grief, rage, and torment. I didn’t know that all of that blame was an ill-attempt to displace the pain from inside of me. If I could believe that you were the problem I didn’t have to bear the brunt of realizing it was me. I didn’t have to take responsibility for my part in energetically calling forth the cast of characters that would assist in my unshrouding. I didn’t have to be accountable for my misperceptions and my own self-aversion.
It wasn’t until a painful and horrifying truth began to dawn that the way to freedom became at first subtly visible. While blaming and hurting others was in some ways easier it was also a way of staying in a self-constructed prison. While it would seem that casting the pain out would alleviate it in here it actually amplified it. Hurting you hurt me even more deeply. Pain is pain. It ultimately isn’t about your pain or my pain. It is THE pain. Hurt is THE hurt. Until I could muster the courage to be with my pain and hurt I kept increasing it by projecting it forward and increasing the overall field of pain. When I could own that it was THE pain ensconcing my heart and dimming my experience healing became available. Wholeness began to come into focus. Compassion was exponentially increased. When I could be with the pain in my heart I could be with yours.
And so having become expansive and even friendly with this pain in here I can help you rather than hurt you. I can know at least in part what you are going through because I have limped along a similar path. My painful experiences become the fuel for a torch I am now meant to carry. When I do my own work I have no need to use you for a target. You were never the problem. You were never really the cause of this pain. It was in here and now it is in many cases not. And where pain remains I have the capacity to stay with it and so it no longer holds me captive.
So hurting people hurt people until they own the pain inside and begin to help others from a place of connection and deep compassion. The pain has become useful. It has become light. It has become love. And while I may hold boundaries I no longer need to build walls. It is safe in here. And in your pain you are safe with me.
While hurting people hurt other people in the process of becoming conscious it is also hurting people who help others at the deepest and most profound levels. A big part of my spiritual awakening has been about increasing the capacity to sit with and to stay with the pain surrounding my heart. I grieve the number of people that became targets of my projected grief, rage, and torment. I didn’t know that all of that blame was an ill-attempt to displace the pain from inside of me. If I could believe that you were the problem I didn’t have to bear the brunt of realizing it was me. I didn’t have to take responsibility for my part in energetically calling forth the cast of characters that would assist in my unshrouding. I didn’t have to be accountable for my misperceptions and my own self-aversion.
It wasn’t until a painful and horrifying truth began to dawn that the way to freedom became at first subtly visible. While blaming and hurting others was in some ways easier it was also a way of staying in a self-constructed prison. While it would seem that casting the pain out would alleviate it in here it actually amplified it. Hurting you hurt me even more deeply. Pain is pain. It ultimately isn’t about your pain or my pain. It is THE pain. Hurt is THE hurt. Until I could muster the courage to be with my pain and hurt I kept increasing it by projecting it forward and increasing the overall field of pain. When I could own that it was THE pain ensconcing my heart and dimming my experience healing became available. Wholeness began to come into focus. Compassion was exponentially increased. When I could be with the pain in my heart I could be with yours.
And so having become expansive and even friendly with this pain in here I can help you rather than hurt you. I can know at least in part what you are going through because I have limped along a similar path. My painful experiences become the fuel for a torch I am now meant to carry. When I do my own work I have no need to use you for a target. You were never the problem. You were never really the cause of this pain. It was in here and now it is in many cases not. And where pain remains I have the capacity to stay with it and so it no longer holds me captive.
So hurting people hurt people until they own the pain inside and begin to help others from a place of connection and deep compassion. The pain has become useful. It has become light. It has become love. And while I may hold boundaries I no longer need to build walls. It is safe in here. And in your pain you are safe with me.
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