Your Life Depends On This One Choice…….
I’m making preparations for my funeral.
In a few days, I’ll be leaving for a week-long retreat called The Hoffman Process….. “10 years of therapy in 7 days” …..so you know, it sounds like it’s going to be a lot of fun.
Thing is, I’ve grown exhausted by my own bullshit. Having childhood dynamics exercising control over my mental and emotional processing is tiresome AF. Watching myself operate in various modes of automation crushes me, and it’s terrifying: at a few months shy of 40, I see a HUGE disconnect between my spirit and my mind. In short, I’m incongruent. And I just. can’t. take. it. any. more.
I want congruence.
I want to feel truly, deeply, madly alive.…..because I watched my twin sister die.
Over 5 weeks, I watched her body sink in on itself. Each day that passed took with it a part of her that made her my Amber. Her mind was taken… then her words. She turned away from my touch, my voice, from music, fresh air, from light; there was no stopping the destruction of the entire world that was wrapped up in her little frame. All I could do was bear witness.
With each hour that took her further from me, Death moved in to fill the divide. In some fucked up form of consolation, Death became less of a foe, and more of a friend. And almost 6 months later, Death has yet to leave my side. He’s sitting beside me now…. And he’s with you.
You see, Death was kind enough to show me where we all end up. Death held my hand and I SAW it. There is no delusion or denial. Not only will I die, but the day will come when everyone who holds me in their memory, carrying my name on their lips, will also die… In a single moment, I won’t even be a thought. Consider the existential brutality of THAT shit for a minute.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. That’s all we are, despite our Oscar-worthy performances.
Knowing THAT, beyond a shadow of a doubt, has been the greatest gift; it’s been the gift of Life that only Death could offer. It’s illuminated the crystal-fucking-clear realization that the Me that’s lived on the auto-pilot settings of of childhood has to die with Amber, if I’m to honor her and the Life with which I’ve been blessed.
You actually might know this Me that I’m talking about…she might look an awful lot like You; she worries about gaining the approval of other “one-day-to-be-dust” people. She awards herself love or hate based on the projections of others who are no more or less important or permanent than she. Everything is taken personally by her, and she’s responsible for the happiness of others, because it they’re not happy, it’s obviously because there’s something wrong with her. She’s afraid of being seen, but needs to be seen if she’s to believe that she exists. She feels a Light inside her, but covers it up because she can’t trust that she’s strong enough to stand alone in the Truth it will illuminate. She values the opinions of others over her own, seeking counsel outside herself, certain that others are wiser that she. She doesn’t think that she’s capable of creating the Life she wants because she’s spent her whole life doubting that she deserved that birthright. Do you recognize her?
This Me I describe must be laid to rest, not because there’s another “new & improved” Me ready to take her place, but because Death showed me there really is no Me at all. Underneath this Me that will disappear just as surely as Amber did, is nothing but Love: energetic, infinite, conscious, unifying Love.
It sounds so stupid when people say that shit; so cheesy and precious. But it’s just true. And I wish that I was a better writer; that I was capable of sharing this Truth in a way that left no question…. but I’m not. And I suppose it’s just as well, because some things are beyond expression and YOU.JUST.KNOW.
And I’ve come to know this……
While I’m in custody of this body, I have two choices:
1. Spend my finite time and energy on constantly reinforcing delusional bullshit that tries to convince me that there is a infinite ME to protect.
2. Spend my finite time and energy dismantling my delusional bullshit so that I can tap into that which IS infinite and invincible…so that I can BE Love.
The former guarantees that I’m focused exclusively on myself, resulting in a small world filled with a shit ton of stress, perpetual disappointment, boredom, resentment, and fear.
The latter allows me to trade my self-absorption for an expanded reality that offers an abundance of energy, creativity, wisdom, excitement, and happiness that is SO BIG, any attempt to contain it would be as laughable as trying to lasso the moon.
The choice seems pretty obvious to me now, but it’s taken the greatest loss of my life to bring me to my senses.
So, I’m off to die. And I’m not afraid. If sacrificing my delusions frees me from the pain of feeling cut off from Love, bringing my mind, heart and spirit into congruence, then I’ll march to my grave with a smile on my face. Upon my return, I won’t look any different. I’ll still snort when I laugh. I’ll still get pissed off by the government, cry when reading the news, occasionally drink too much, and lose my patience with my children on a fairly regular basis…. I’ll still have moments of being a total C-word.
But the hope is that I’ll return from my “funeral” recognizing that when I AM incongruent and small, it’s just a sign that I’ve momentarily relapsed into the delusional bullshit of the “infinite Me”; that for a moment, I was confusing my skin for the stars.