Over the past nine months, life has taken me down yet another road... and this one I really didn't see coming. Though, such is the nature of reality; we never really know where we are headed or why (which, in my unsought opinion, is a blessing. If we knew what may come next, most of us would never take another step). I found myself, after a deeply moving experience of an Unfathomable Reality, slowly (yet forcibly) moving away from what I had previously held as sacred or true. This movement away from what was held in high esteem or value wasn't something new; after having been on a Search for God or Truth for a while, I was very familiar with letting go of beliefs, ideas, concepts and constraints that no longer fit into my experiences. However, this wasn't just letting go of stifling beliefs and identities that had worn out their usefulness or were seen to be misplaced; these held treasures seemed to be the very foundation of my current experiences of life, of spirituality, of man, and of the very Truth I now rested in and which is Always seen to be Immediately Present. It isn't that the Truth went anywhere; it's that the Truth is seen to be not 'the Truth'. It just can't be bottled like that. This was a very rude, shocking and deeply disturbing realization.
For the record, this is a very lonely place to be. The 'modern world', or the world viewed as separate from God or Truth, was slowly let go of after starting the Search and discovering a deeper reality to Life. Worldly success, monetary wealth, fame, worldly goods, admiration, societal truths, and the like held no allure for they were seen to be empty. Though it was a difficult transition, I eventually acclimated to this new way of living. And I lived quite well with none the wiser to my new way of perceiving and experiencing the world; save those I shared my perception with. But now the perception I lived for so long, which included those that experienced life similarly (and whom I had come to rely upon to support and mirror my direct experience), were also being left behind. I could no longer relate to the worldly minded or the spiritually minded. I no longer had a resting place.
Subsequently, and as further proof of Life's sense of humor, my Teacher saw no need to comfort my unease. She knows the necessary passage into having nothing to hold and nowhere to rest one's head. I'd share my agony with her, praying she'd give me a way out, but she'd simply nod her head and reply: "Good. So there's progress." Zero solace; she gave me zero solace what-so-ever. I wanted this agonizing pain and withdrawal gone... swiftly taken away. I was absolutely convinced something was terribly wrong, that I had lost footing and not gained a surer way. I wanted my good fortune of love, unity, connectedness, sacredness, spiritualness, Self-as-mySelf, and holiness back. I had experienced dark nights of the soul, but this was wholly different. God, the Divine Presence I basked within, had left me. Sure, Awareness is always Here, but It was no longer Holy. It was no longer God. It was no longer Divine. It refused those definitions and burnt them to dust every time I dared to thrust them towards It. If It could talk, Awareness would surely say: "You can't do that." But It can't talk. So life says, and shows it, instead.
I am stubborn; even in the face of hard facts which I wish to deny, I will attempt to find a way around, above or below them. This obviously causes a lot of unnecessary suffering; but, considering that stubbornness necessarily implies being stubborn, that reality never stops me from trying. I once lived in a magical and merry world of perceiving everything, and I mean everything, as perfection. There was nothing wrong, nothing ugly or unnecessary, nothing was out of place, and all was exactly as it should be. This, as it seems to describe, is the most majestic way of living and rightfully brings with it feelings of love, acceptance, goodwill, bliss and harmony. Once this perception takes hold, the frightening world of circumstance and chance fades away into a new backdrop of divine will. No longer is the world seen to be foreign, imperfect or wildly chaotic. Instead, all is intimately familiar, designed by a Higher Power, and a symphony of symmetry. It's right and just. It's beyond beautiful. It's empty, but full with complete possibility. It's alive. It's divine. It's perfect. It also isn't real. And this is where my kicking and screaming, my lifelong practice of stubbornness, comes in. And out comes that little faceless bugger; the compass of conscience.
I fought tooth and nail to keep that dream alive. It was an all out bloody battle "Damn you, God! You will not, you cannot, take this beautiful view away from me!" And God, or Truth, didn't take it away. That seeing is still here. Once you've seen into the Center of Life, the Essence of what you are born of and from, that knowledge can't be taken away. You can't forget this Reality; It doesn't work that way. This Essence, That by which you Exist, isn't a memory or a place in the mind that you access. It's here all the while. What is taken, you see, is the ability by which you access It. The maneuvering by which you sink into It. The process by which you acknowledge It. The connection through which you breathe into It. In other words; everything save It is taken. Which leaves, if you can follow me here, precisely nothing.
The quandry here, as I've relunctantly come to acknowledge, lies in my absolute inability to relate any longer to the widely accepted models of both worldly and spiritual constructs. I understand the world as it appears to be, as it has the potential to be and as it really is. These are not exclusive of one another; they are precisely the same world. Previously I was able to drown out one world with another. It was as if one cancelled out the other and all the problems of the previous world could be negated and replaced with the new, improved world. It was like trading in your old car for a shiny new one. The problem now is I have no car. Mine broke down and, apparently, I don't qualify for another car loan.
So, I've ignored and avoided it all. I've watched as some suffer in separation or others bask in their latest spiritual achievement. I've silently wept as the world struggles underneath the weight of its collective destruction and cringed for those blinded by their individuality or even by the bliss of spirituality. All of them, agonizingly, the essence of my own being. I have felt completely incapable of assisting either; and because I was so frozen in uncertainty, I stood still when life is compelled to act.
Holding still is not Stillness. It is a mistake to believe so. You are free to make this mistake; but should you find yourself able to give it some consideration, please do so. The reality is that Stillness is not an external or mental action. Granted, these actions lead to the Prize; but the teaching or wisdom of "Be Still" implies something far deeper ... a stopping of mental action entirely (through mediation, enquiry or surrender). It is using movement (the mind or action) to come to a point of letting go and, at the end of this, Being Still... which is Being ... and Being is Still. But Stillness, True Stillness, is not of this world. It is That from which the world is born. The nature of the world (of creation) is action; it is movement. In this way, the world is compelled to act... to move. Because of this, you are compelled to act... to move. When we don't ... when we deny this ... that little bugger, the compass of conscience, comes calling.
Knowing the difference between Stillness and stillness, I wasn't ignorant of my actions or lack thereof. I was simply unsure of which to rest within. Or if that was necessary. Or if it wasn't. Or if I had anything useful to share. Or if I could. Or if I couldn't. Or if I had accidentally stumbled into a universal abyss that I wasn't meant to go near and now I was doomed to an eternity of being on the outside looking in from Nowhere to nowhere with no way to connect to either Nothing or something ever, ever again. So, that faceless little bugger poked and proded. Nudged and hassled. Stalked and taunted.
Finally fed up and completely exhausted, I turned around and yelled: "What do you want!?"
Life, as I've come to see, knows the necessary passage of having no place to rest one's head. However, this does not excuse one from living. Quite the opposite appears to be true; one is now required to live more completely... to allow life to act, as is its nature. So now, I follow where the compass points. Though, I have no idea where any of this is headed. Which is a blessing, in my unsought opinion.
