Friday, October 9, 2009

The Price of Admission

My life over that past few weeks has been a study in deep dark. In shadows. Breakdowns. Broken hearts. Glimpses. Changes. Internal battles. Coming into a new awareness of me. Working the hard won epiphany.

So much goes on, moving fast and hard. Where the light did little more than highlight the dark. There was a heavy march of change. One that I felt was going to happen, had happened, whether I was ready or not. Maybe I just didn't realize how ready I was. Source seems to be bringing me, I seem to be attracting situations, that feel big...bigger than I can handle. A rush of emotions, of events. Change at gale force.

Through it all, I saw myself going through the 5 stages of grieving. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. I dance a quick 2 step through the stages. Bouncing forward. Jump back. Touch a toe here and then there.
I go through these stages as others do. Physically and emotionally. Intellectually.
When I go through what appears to be a difficult shift in situation or perspective, I deluge myself with the thought of what is. And won't be. It isn't to torture myself, though that may certainly be one outcome. I do it to force the change. No, not force the change. Push the acceptance.
While doing this, I feel weak and small and like everything I face is far bigger than me. But I keep going because that is how I am wired. I keep telling myself over and over what the changes mean until I can do it without tears. I can only imagine what it is like for those who are able to divorce themselves of attachment. That can compartmentalize. Can distract themselves. We all cope differently.
Then I can begin to see some light. Begin to see not just the dark but how the light lines it. Butts up to it. Exists side by side. I can begin to see that the dark doesn't bleed into the light the way that my fear bleed into my hope.
I start to see and feel the change as gradual. Though it may come as the first cool autumn day suddenly arrives, I know that it is over time. A bit at a time. For though a situation may change, its full impact is only felt when and how we process it. I can have a great loss and not know about it. While I am unaware, it makes no difference to me. When I discover this loss, then the journey begins. The denial. The blind rage. The begging. The shutdown. The knowing. And then moving on.
But it happens a bit at a time. At least for me.

I have long since thought of myself as a godspark. One little bit of source in a sea of other sparks. I felt small but like I could. I just could. Somehow make my way. I might know not exactly how to get where I am going. But to keep focused. If I all I could do is to keep my eye on the one foot in front of the other.
One morning, I opened the door to find this slug that had traveled on a rainy night up my storm door. When I opened the inner door I was face to literally face with him. I could see the circles where he can curled up and rested. His ascension trail. And I wondered why. Why did he do this? It takes a good amount of time and I am guessing energy to travel that much and against gravity to go up. But he did.
And if he could do this, without an evident to the outside world reason, then I too must be free to move in my own circles.
No one has to understand. No one else has to get on board for the ride.
And while I am a small part of the whole, I am not small. My circles will be evident. My presence known.
Especially if I take the risk to go further and outside lines, like this slug and Jonathon Livingston Seagull. Yeah, I might travel part way alone but I have decided it is worth the price of admission to extraordinary.

And even if I fly alone, to my grandest vision of me...even if I fly alone, I can know that there are others out there. Doing their thing. Getting all extraordinary and stuff. Knowing that it is a wild and delicious ride. Dips and all.
It is always in the knowing that I find my light. In the knowing, feel peace. In the knowing, know.