Tag Archive | being present

The In Between

I am a mystic.  Before you get too excited that I carry the answers of the universe within my soul, well, I’m not that kind of mystic.  I’m more the ordinary soccer-mom variety that feels clueless most of the time.

Here’s a definition (courtesy of dictionary.com) I found that most closely represents my experience of being a mystic:

a person who claims to attain, or believes in the possibility of attaining, insight into mysteries transcending ordinary human knowledge, as by direct communication with the divine or immediate intuition …

I never set out to be a mystic.  And if I did, I’d certainly want to be the kind that has their sh*t figured out.  Instead, I’m the kind that perceives weird stuff that no one else does and I have to pretend I don’t for fear of… well, just plain fear.

For example, I see white light emanating from people and/or objects fairly regularly.  Sometimes, solid objects become fluid and wavy when I look at them.  I can intuit people’s moods and feelings often before they can.  The kicker with this is it’s usually the stuff they are trying mightily to avoid so when I speak about it, I appear to be talking about something that is completely irrelevant.  I spend most of my time trying to say the things that people want to hear instead of what they maybe need to hear.  If someone is sick, hurting or physically uncomfortable, I feel it.  Sometimes my body mirrors their pain and sometimes I feel a general sense of unease instead.  If I’m able to name it out loud that sometimes helps.  But it’s weird in certain situations to say, “Your knee hurts, doesn’t it?”  especially when it’s not a topic currently being discussed, so again, back to trying to talk about what is acceptable and not what I’m sensing.

I’ve lived my whole life this way, denying what I know to be true most of the time.

It’s possible all this weird stuff isn’t what sets me apart, but actually may be the path that is leading me to oneness.

So very often we think the ‘weird stuff’ about us is why we remain unloved.  That’s not true.  It’s simply an invitation to really see what is true in front of us.

Am I different?

Maybe.

All I know is that I can’t keep denying what my experiences are and I’ll see where it leads me.

Farther away from here or closer to there?

It’s the in between that makes no sense.

 

Floating

As I was lying on my yoga mat sprawled in the darkness surrounded by strangers, I started to float away.  Not my body of course, but the something else that is me, but isn’t me.  This wasn’t the first time this had happened,

Where do I go exactly?

Wherever it is there aren’t concepts or words. There is great fear and loss associated with these experiences.  However, if I open my mind and push it to its limit of comprehension, I may be more real when I’m gone then when I am on that yoga mat.

This random detaching from myself is why I no longer belong.  I have never belonged.  Chances are, if you are one of the two people reading this, you have experienced your own non-belonging moments.

There is a fissure in my soul that I keep trying to mend with answers.  In some ways, I have found my answers, but I don’t like them.  If I open myself up to the possibility that I am more than a body (and let’s be honest, if I keep floating away from it, I may need to seriously entertain the thought), I find a little freedom there.

The upside is, well, I haven’t found that yet.  The more I open myself to something beyond myself, the more I leave behind.  Whatever illusions I had of ‘finally finding my tribe’ as I embarked on my path are obliterated.  The deeper I go within, the farther I am from the world.

I am willing to find the truth of me.  I am willing to let go of the world to do so.

I am willing.  I am willing.  I am willing.

There is no guarantee that I will get the answers I crave.  Instead, I will get the answers I am ready to receive and find solace in the only place I have for shelter.

So, I continue to go within, float away and pray.

 

The Dogged Truth

Before saying a word, he [Ajahn Chah] motioned to a glass at his side. “Do you see this glass?” he asked us. “I love this glass. It holds the water admirably. When the sun shines on it, it reflects the light beautifully. When I tap it, it has a lovely ring. Yet for me, this glass is already broken. When the wind knocks it over or my elbow knocks it off the shelf and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ But when I understand that this glass is already broken, every minute with it is precious.          

 – excerpted from FakeBuddhaQuotes.com

There is something to be said about our attachment to the way things are.  We believe that if our external world aligns properly with our personal preferences then peace will be achieved.  Perfect external alignment is an ephemeral concept at best.  Those fleeting moments of having our personal agendas manifested are the hook that keeps us from going inward.  Yet lasting peace never relies on the external.  Only by connecting to our deep inner truth do we find ourselves home.

I often find myself very attached to certain outcomes for my personal self.  I wished I looked better, felt better and that my favorite baseball team would win every single game they play.  Living this way does not work for me any more.  My attachment to outcomes is what is making me sick.  This sickness is physical, mental and spiritual in nature.  I am trying to learn another way.

When I walk my dog, who happens to be one of my favorite beings on the planet, I ponder my attachment to him.  It is precarious.  While he is healthy and spry for his age, at the center of my knowing I understand he will not live forever.  My personal self is quite distraught over this potential loss.  It was to a point where my anxiety about every little thing he did or did not do meant that the end was near.  I was making myself miserable and forgetting to be present with him in the now.

My attachment to him is still strong.  To counteract this I have opened a window in my soul.  This is where I let the reality of impermanence dance its way through me.  When I stay open and present with this truth, my attachment loosens a bit and I experience a loving flash of being in the moment.  Being in the moment feels so much better than stressing about an attachment or outcome.  There is no story about endings or beginnings, there is only grace.

My intention is to let grace guide me.  With grace attachments are not required and honestly, neither am I.

There is only truth.