Subtle Lessons in Awareness

The thing with Awareness, you can’t search for it. It just finds you when you stop looking.

I used to start the music, set the timer, and begin the meditation. My eyes would close, I would open the door to my mind and, instead of welcoming in Awareness, I walked right past it into the forest of mind to find what I thought it was.

I went in search of Awareness but found madness instead.

The timer would ring signalling the end of my meditation. I’d feel frustration, sometimes more than when I’d started, at the obvious failure of my hunt.

Yet, I’ve now been taught that Awareness brings to me only what I need in any particular moment.

I didn’t think the light that I saw shining was the Great Awareness I was searching but I now know there are no levels to the magnitude of Awareness. It just is and will show itself to me when I give myself to It.

As I give, so shall I receive.

Cliff Diving

My psychologist, she extends her hand as if to shake someone else’s, but then stands her hand at the edge of the table and teeters it back and forth. The gesture is a visual aid, a representation of my plight with depression.

I, by virtue of biology and environment, exist precariously close to the ‘edge’ and with the use of my tools of awareness and self-management, though my path is rocky, I am able to stay atop and not fall over. However, it takes tremendous effort to do this and she readily acknowledges that it shouldn’t be this difficult. I would agree, though not through any direct evidence but through a deep knowledge, a knowing, that this is not my true nature. There is a part of me that knows I am a being of joy and love. It’s in me somewhere, I just don’t know how to access it.

My psychologist then draws her hand in towards the center of the table slightly, explaining how some people live further away from the edge but can, through situations and events combined with a prevalence towards depression, slide quickly to the edge. Her hand moves with her description and falls off the edge of the table.

She then places her hand right in the middle of the table. This is the person who, despite any circumstances experienced in life, will never be drawn towards that dangerous ‘edge’. I understand what she is telling me, it’s not news to me. But, I sit wishing to be the hand in the middle of the table yet not even being able to know what that would feel like.

I exist on a continuum of gray – fifty shades of gray.

Today is black. I lie in a fetal position on the floor, tears streaming down my face, and my head feeling like it’s going to explode. I feel trapped. I can’t explain it either. My husband asks what’s wrong and what he can do. The only answer to both questions is, “Nothing.”

It’s strange. How can someone feel so acutely awful and there not be anything ‘wrong’?

The more I fight the entrapment, the worse it gets and the pressure builds. I eventually surrender to it. I don’t know what else to do.

I lay on the floor, exhausted, staring at the ceiling. Tears still roll down my cheeks.

Ye, though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil.

Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

I find solace in these verses that come to my forethought. I reach for my bible and lay my head on it like a pillow and allow the words to permeate my mind.

Sleep finds me.

I awake in the morning, a lighter shade of black. I think back to last night. I do not understand.

The attack was torturous yet, the more I fought it, the worse it got. And when the realization dawned that there was actually nothing that could happen to me, that there was actually nothing happening to me, I was able to let go.

There is no epiphany here. The remembrance of the attack fills me with fear. I don’t want it to happen again. But I wonder, what am I really afraid of if nothing actually happened to me? What is the attack?

My mind goes back to the hand and the table; the hilltop, the edge, and the fall into oblivion.

It all started with a pull to the edge but what hurt the most was the incessant struggle to keep from falling. Yet, when I let myself fall, that’s when the voice of God spoke to me.

So, I’m curious now. What’s in this cavernous valley below? Is it the dark and menacing place I’ve believed it to be? Why is the hilltop the ‘place to be’?

Perhaps there’s another world worth exploring…perhaps the pull is a calling to find out…

Real Estate

Often in our search for God we turn our backs on darkness believing God is only found in light.

We relegate ourselves to one tiny room in the house where the light is already on and we let ourselves believe that one small section of the house will suffice.

But God isn’t found in light, He is light.

If the light is on in one room, the power to light the whole house is surely there.

Be not afraid. Walk the halls, find the dark rooms, and turn on the lights.

Take back your house, your true inheritance.

Ask and It is Given. Period.

I invite the Holy Spirit to be my guest today. No other.

I can expect the arrival of whom I invite and so, with great pleasure, I have prepared the head of the table for your arrival.

I know I have invited you before – and you’ve always come – but I didn’t recognize you. I denied you entrance.

Today I accept your presence in whatever dress you come in.

Truly, “If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.”

Today my brother has come, this I know. Without a doubt he always does. And there you are as well. It can’t be otherwise.

I invited you and you’ve promised your attendance.

Thank you for coming.

 

God Likes to Travel

It was always so hard to get out of bed in the morning. Until today.

I realized I need not relinquish God to the warmth and safety of my bed – to leave Him there and then spend my day longing to return to Him. How horrid a day it is without God – the long and lonely hours.

No more. God travels easily with me, forever in my mind and mine in His. I just have to remember to bring Him with me, to let Him come along.

Do You Know What You’re Asking?

I sit in quiet contemplation and ask:

What causes us to block the light? Why, or how, did we forget? How do we remember?

It suddenly seems circular. If I knew the cause could I remove it to undo the effect?

What I seem to be saying is that I’m the cause of darkness and what I’m asking is how to remove myself. I have made myself both cause and effect and have become both the attacker and attacked.

Where is the beginning of darkness if everything came from light?

It can’t be answered. There is no darkness.

Closing my eyes in the light doesn’t mean the light is gone.