 An invitation. I just received an invitation to write a letter to Death. I assume it's a capital "D" but I am not sure about the address. Where, exactly, does Death reside? And I wonder if Death will respond? Dear Death,
Where do I begin? In rage, despair, fear or some kind of pleading? No, let me begin again... I honestly don't know what to say to you, as I hone in on the words, merely noting the range of emotions, questions and negotiations that hover, wanting to infiltrate accusingly. But I am trying to stay neutral, to open my heart at this moment of purposeful communication. So, Death, I guess I will start with a question: What are you, and what is your purpose for being? Okay, I guess that's two questions. My mind seeks clarity... understanding. Religions, philosophers and perhaps even science have tried to define you, your purpose. In a very practical way it seems to be about impermanence and cycles, but I want to hear your words, your directness of identity and, I assume, value. I am doing my best to be earnest, even curious, but this letter might convey my own defensiveness. See, Death, I am recently wounded by you... or an aspect of you. I know we all meet you eventually, so it seems strange - victim-y - to label any transition to you as a wound. At least for those of us who've not yet met you. For those who've lost our loves ones to you. Again, I am trying to express and speak my truth with as much honesty and neutrality as possible, but I am human, after all. Perhaps if I were more like you - a source of some kind, a field that every living thing meets - I would feel less vulnerable? I'm wanting, in this moment, to proclaim that I don't fear you, but I do notice all the conditions I've attached. Let me just be clear... I don't need an answer, or definition, or understanding of you, really. I think I just need to express how confused I am right now, how hurt I still feel; the grief. And, though I don't actually blame you, I do feel it was important to write this letter. Just to be hear. Sincerely, Veronica
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 The last time I told a lie, I think, was just a moment ago. You see, my mind lies. It has created a structure called reality and I adhere to its confines.
"I'm not powerful," I think... oh-so subtly. And then I act - or do I not act? - to affirm this lie. My heart, my soul aim to speak truth. It pushes through my dreams, my visions and even has a placeholder on my knowing. But the lie persists, convincingly. "Look!" it exclaims, "there is evidence all around you! Just look at your life! Does that exemplify power?" Shame wells, as do invisible tears. "I hear you," I whisper, my gut wrenched in dreams undigested. A breath. My soul reminds me to breathe. "Breathe deep," it beckons soothingly. "Remember who you are." I soften, just for a moment, drawing in the air - my innermost element - until it grounds me. My mind hushes for the smallest of instants. "Remember," I hear. Another breath, my heart searching for counter-evidence to atone any semblance of unworthiness. Stories flash across my mind. "Oh, look! There's your mother. She was strong. She was powerful. She birthed you into her powerful shadow, nurtured you to cultivate your own." "I remember," I offer softly. The mind is ruthless. Hard evidence. It presses me with a stare that burns and frightens. "Breathe in that fear," I hear from my soul. "Take it in, allow it to show itself to you." So I draw in another breath, fire still burning deep. "Use the fire!" she whispers. With air and fire, I have gathered two elements. Two sacred aspects of my being. "Do I fight?" I wonder. "No, simply soften... draw in what you resist." Laughter booms from the lie! "Are you really going to believe all that shit? Fire and air?" "And water," offers my soul. "Let your tears flow, my dear. Let them go." A warmth fills my eyes, my chest tightens in resistance. "Let go," she beckons. Against my pride, the tears flow. My face is wet and warm and salty. "Yes," she says. "Can you taste the salt?" I nod gently. "Ground your body, taste the salt and know your power." My mind, confused, has no idea what to do with all these elements, with these emotions. The lie dissipates. For now. In this moment I have surrendered to the truth. The truth of my soul, my humanity, the exquisiteness of being perfectly human. And, yes, even powerful.  I have tried to seek balance most of my life. Er... I'm a Libra.
An astrologer once told me, "Most people think Librans are balanced. That is actually not the case! Librans spent most of their lives swinging the pendulum from one extreme to the other trying to find balance." Or, perhaps I am an extremely diverse person with lots of interests and intentions. Regardless, balance in my daily life and mind looks somewhat mundane, yet peaceful and simple. In my heart, balance means living in joy without my day's or mind's parameters. Ah, yes! That is what I seek! A life filled with joy without limitations! If there were no tasks to get done, no schedule to adhere to, no places to be, or no outward obligations, then perhaps I could float from one joy to another without worry of seeking balance. I so look forward to the collapsing of time. The mind has created this funny thing called time. Although it helps keep things "in order," it has become a ball and chain we allow ourselves to drag around and believe in its necessity. Again and again, I have contemplated on how to release this ball and chain. Ah, meditation! In the quietude of my soul, I have escaped the sands of time into the nothingness of bliss and eternity. Dreamland also allows my soul to fly free and clear into other realms and dimensions. Some, in this three dimensional, masculine, doing-oriented world might call me "lazy" or "dreamy" or far too idealistic. Yes. Though I believe in the value of work, I know in my heart the value of play... joyful, imaginative, creative, pointless, expressive, boundless play! Yes, by being incarnated onto this earth, in this day and age, we have agreed to the "rules of the game." We follow the "laws" of gravity, time, space, and have bought into the "reality" of duality. And, as a new age unfolds, we are beginning to break those laws. Or, perhaps more accurately, we are allowing our minds to release the perception of these laws and bring the reality of who we are into three dimensional focus for all to see... and - more importantly - for us to enjoy! My day is growing tired.
The fullness of the week rested over the weekend, yet the tiredness is ready for a good night's sleep. The tiredness is utterly human. My spirit never tires - it always moves with expansions and contractions into eternity. Always. Resting is relative, I suppose. But the body is subject to tiredness and needs rest and renewal. Rest and renewal... rest and renewal. Each and every night the same, though the amount of rest and renewal can vary. My body may demand a certain amount, but it doesn't always get what it wants. I do have to give in to the tiredness though. No such thing as skipping sleep. Putting it off, perhaps, but sleeping must come. And then sleeping wears off, and a new day begins. Always a new day. Always more time for waking so I can see, interact and be in Life. I guess I could choose not to interact, but that would require more effort than it implies. So during my waking hours I try to create a Life of Joy, Love and Purpose. My purpose. What do I want to do with my time that fills me up with Life? I fill, I do, I Love. Then it is time for rest and renewal.  "When am I going to get there?", I wonder.
I have always been a "futurizer." Since I was young, I have looked ahead, longed for what was to come, lived in the future. My husband, on the other hand, has reminisced, regretted and spent much of his time living in the past. Why is living in the present so difficult? Is it so uncomfortable, or painful, or boring to simply be here now? Ah, such strange behaviors we have taken on as adults. And although many children talk about what they are going to be when they grow up, or relive precious memories, most of them are well planted in the present moment. "What did you do at school today?" we ask at the dinner table. The very young child can scarcely remember the activities of the schoolday; that was many, many moments ago. "Do we have school tomorrow?" the mid-youth asks. The concept of weekends verses weekdays gets confusing, even though it has been consistent for us adults. We often dredge through, make note of hump day, and rejoice with "Thank God it's Friday!" But as children grow, the past or future become something to long for as the heaviness of responsibility and duty, right and wrong, and other cultural influences set in. Do they have to set in? Does growing up have to mean longing for not being in the moment? The moment... the simple, evasive slice of time (which doesn't actually exist). We can grasp it, make it last, or make it disappear. Although it is evasive, it is truly all that exists in time... the one and only moment; the now. So, as I look to the future with high hopes or worry, or while my husband dwells on the past, we are always welcomed to the moment by our children. A present that is everlasting and precious indeed. It's in these spaces of confusion and uncertainty that I try to seek "meaning."
What I'm I "supposed to" do?, I wonder. What do you want to do?, I hear. Want? I want the world! My mind spins in and around wish lists that have been forming since I was a child. Sure, I have outgrown some of the things I wanted in my youth, but there are certainly some things that have never changed. I want to live in opulence, contentment and joy! So, why don't you? I wish I could! So, why don't you? The frustration grows as my mind grasps at the other list... the one with all the reasons why I can't have those dear, sweet experiences in my life. I don't have enough time or money! are the two things my mind has clumped together and turned into the greatest obstacle in the world. Oh, I see. I know I need more excuses! Sure, time and money are the biggies, but this didn't seem to be a good enough reason for lack, longing and such... so my mind digs deeper. It searches, but all the other excuses seem piddly and really do tie into the two biggies. I just can't! Life's not fair!, I insist. Although I am alone, I feel the overwhelming desire to cross my arms, stomp my foot and plop down in a funk on the couch. I hate being conscious enough to know I can no longer fool even myself. Yet, the confusion reigns. I am utterly wrapped into my mood of stubborn despair. How can I live in opulence, contentment and joy with little or no time or money? I hear laughter... a sweet laughter, I admit. My heart knows I have already been doing so. I whole-heartedly understand that opulence, contentment and joy are matters of perception. I also know, though I try to avoid this truth at times, that time and money are also matters of perception. All of these energies can be perceived, shifted and created into whatever I choose. Yet, I am also clear that there is a mass consciousness that - like the stubborn, forgetful me - believes otherwise. This belief is so thick and sticky, it has gotten hold of many of us. It has trapped us into a way of life and often results in suffering. Ah, suffering. I am not a stranger to suffering. There are times I don't want to suffer, and life is simply hard. Yes, life can be very hard. I am reassured that my perceptions aren't completely invalid. I take a quiet, deep breath... a sigh of surrender, really. I feel my shoulders drop a bit; my jaw softens. The frown remains, but I am not as anxious to fight. What I realize is that my mind is still clenching the list of desires. I still do want to have more time and money... especially the money because I believe it will buy me more time. I can be such a noble martyr. My mind searches for the stories. I have many to choose from; I can dare anyone to pick a theme and I could offer a rich, real story likely to put theirs to shame. This game is getting old, however. I'm bored to tears with my stories, though I do use them, as needed. You know, those times that drama is the icing on the cake and your sweet tooth has become a craving out of control. Yeah, those moments still happen. I hear myself laughing now. My reasonable mind simply wants an A to Z answer. How can I make more time and money? Spirit can't seem to reason with my irrational mind at this point. It is caught in the sticky goo, trying to figure it all out. In fact, it assures me, if it figures it all out, it can sell it to others and then make lots of money off the answer! My heart simply smiles. It patiently waits for the conscious, wise me to return... to once again be centered in my heart where opulence, contentment and joy have been living all along. I hear more sweet laughter. I have this funny feeling that my heart knows that time and money are living there, too. Waking... waking... waking...
How can one awaken if in reality there is only the awakened state? Sometimes I feel myself as a huge being of light with infinite wisdom. Other times I am a struggling mother with a flabby belly and a messy home. Of course, I know I am both... all. Yet, the reality is that this reality is a tricky one. It is so full of potential, that somehow I have created an entire story and made it real. Wow! Now that is powerful. Yet, the truth is, I don't exactly remember how I did this. Oh, yes, I know people claim to know the "secret," but I don't. Well, I only have a vague memory of the plan, the workings, the so-called truth. I have chosen to stay asleep to this, however, and I yearn to awaken. Or do I? Isn't this the glorious experience? To know, but forget you know, and then try to remember? In the meantime, I am learning to cherish the forgetfulness. To laugh, to play, to be perfectly human. Sometimes the mommy struggles, sometimes she soars. Sometimes the belly squeezes itself into a tight pair of jeans, sometimes it is caressed with love and kindness. Sometimes the house is messy and chaotic, sometimes it is the center of the Universe, filled with love and life and everything outside it disappears completely. Hm.... a strange, yet fascinating experience full of air, water, earth and fire. The elements of life itself. Am I awakening? Maybe I have awakened. I seem to know the basics. Perhaps this is good enough. Listen... listen closely to your heart. What is it saying? What does it desire most? Busyness (sometimes business) can keep us from hearing that which sings so loudly in our being. We can get caught up in the busyness of Life... working, teaching, giving, doing, earning, and so on.
In the stillness, we can make room for listening. Quietude in an option, too. On the to do's of your day, perhaps you make a tiny space for quietude. Then simply LISTEN. Perhaps one day you will begin to hear the song of your own heart.  It's sad to think there is no "purpose" to my life.
At times I relish in this thought, it helps me release all feelings of responsibility! Yet, the knowing "it doesn't really matter" worries my ego. "Of course it matters!" *sigh* So, my ego struggles with the knowing and the not knowing, the grasping and releasing, the desires and contentment. It's odd to be experiencing this awakened middle place. Where "both" worlds are clear, and clearly in opposition. Yet, this state allows me to see a third view... the place where duality disappears and all is one. Such an odd place... where ALL IS ONE and ONE IS ALL. The beauty, the knowing, the human mind's confusion over which "side" to pick. Pick neither, my dear. Choose just ONE  Our senses are crashing! Our sense of self, our sense of direction, our sense of what's right and wrong... all crashing! So, what is the value of this? "What is a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" "I don't know... I don't even remember how I got here." Someone shake me awake! Some One Is. As we awaken, all of who we thought we were begins to fade away with the dream. The intense feelings, the complete absorption about the storyline, the strange-yet-familiar characters all begin to fade.
Yet in that middle place, in the stretch of existence that lies between the dreamstate and the awakened state, there is confusion. Which reality is real? What's happening... oh, no!.. the dream is fading. Where is it going? Who am I? Where am I? I think I'm in bed. I feel my bed. Wait! What day is it? What DAY is it... think, think... I think it's Wednesday. Is is Wednesday? All day I drift in and out of the knowing of the day. I only know it is TODAY, and that's good enough. In my daily activities, I feel myself fading with the dream, and sometimes it feels like I'm crashing! |
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