I had come up with an idea that I believed would set me on
the path to creating financial salvation for myself. I was moving boldly toward it, taking decisive action and
preparing for a risk of monumental size.
A leap. A leap that would
free me from the total lack of financial safety, that has been my life, for
more years than seems really fair.
And now…the venue that I was going to set up shop in, that I
just knew would be the place where I could launch a financial turn around,
using the talents I have developed over three decades, has a ten year waiting list…you-heard-me-right-ten-years…
Clunk. And,
full stop.
Once more, same tune different verse. Even though I know that the sorrow and
disappointment that I am feeling is interior based and has nothing to do with
the information I have just received, and instead everything to do with how I
am processing that information.
That “knowledge” does not seem to mitigate the twins from arriving. The one who whispers fear, and the other
who promises ruin.
Since being laid off this time, just after having completed
the best work I have ever produced.
(Believe me when I tell you, that giving the best you are capable of,
and having that met with an electronically delivered employment dismissal, is a
shock of fairly substantial proportions.)
I put together in my mind’s eye, this small retail shop, in this
astoundingly busy venue and not for a moment did I imagine that I could not get
in. The shear naïveté of that
boggles the mind. And the timing
is not lost on me either…finding out about that, is the very first action I
should have taken, rather than gearing up so much for something that turns out
not to be possible.
Just yesterday, I wrote about not feeling sorry for
myself…about not hiding from my own mind by slipping under the covers and
fantasizing…and just now, that is the only thing I want to do.
I suspect they’re a hand full of folks alive on the planet
at any given time that are actively telling the truth about life. And I do mean a handful…
George, my beloved and now deceased teacher, was fond of
attempting to get us to understand how very much we lie to ourselves, each
other, and the world at large. The
Lie he said was the one unforgivable sin…the one choice that kills spirit, and
loosens ones grip on reality.
And I am lying right
this moment…
Let us look.
The truth is that I am sitting here, my fingers on my keyboard,
comfortable from just having trimmed my nails, with my window air conditioner
beating back the scorching Arizona sun, food is in my refrigerator, and my wee
and furry companions are at my feet and breathing the breath of slumber.
In this moment, I am physically well and even cared
for. But my mind insists on
commenting about how scary the future is, how little money I have, how little
hope there is, how completely alone I am.
You will think me a bit of a monster for reporting what I am
about to disclose…but…I am suddenly willing to risk everything.
I watched a YouTube video last night; it had been “shared”
by someone who said that the viewing of it should include a box of Kleenex
because, surely, tears would flow.
It showcased a young man, who reported himself to be
28. He had been told a week or so
earlier that the leukemia that he had been battling for ten years was no longer
treatable. That he would soon
begin the process of dying, and that he was sitting down for the videotaping of
his “last good bye”.
I didn’t cry.
I am not saying that his conversation was not poignant, nor
that his circumstance was not immediate.
I am only saying that it being honestly or accurately horribly unfair,
was the type of lie that George tried so hard to get us to see.
If, and it seems it is so, that he is to die at 28, rather
than the 88 I am sure he had hoped and prayed for…if that is to be, then it surely
must be the will of the One.
We, the collective, since time immemorial… pray for what we want…when we should be praying to mold
ourselves to accept the truth as it presents itself. He is about to die.
I may come to the place where I cannot feed myself.
But here is the truth for both of us. At this precise moment, he is, in all
probability, alive and even relatively comfortable. And I am certainly well fed.
We, both of us, are scaring ourselves only through the
misuse of our minds. He spoke at
length about how scared he was, and I sat down at this computer because I was
scared. His circumstance is more
probably going to happen than will mine.
The state will give me 200 dollars a month to feed myself, having tried
it before, I know that 200 dollars doesn’t make it to the end of the month, but
it could…if I were more conservative.
So my fear isn’t even real.
And as for the young man, he has no idea about what dying is, or what it
might bring with it. Perhaps he
will feel so grateful that he was released from the prison of the flesh that he
might metaphorically jump for Joy.
Perhaps he will discover that he is glad to be free once more. Who is to say…but the real work is not
in the outer world. The real work
is being capable of distinguishing the truth, from the lie.
I went to a group gathering a couple of nights ago. It is a pleasant experience, a well
cooked vegetarian dinner, followed by a video of Eckhart Tolle. The price is paid in the “discussion”
that follows the videos. It is
ostensibly a group participation, but in truth two or three of the older men
use it as a platform to act out the fantasy of being a teacher and spiritual
leader. (Something I am intimately familiar with…) They discourse about their beliefs, providing opinion and
statements of profundity, which they imagine are welcome and potent. But what I hear is the same form of
illusion that speaks through the voice of fear; only it is using the more
clever disguise of positivity and certainty. The same illusion which, in the beginning, drove these
essays and my desire to be an “author”.
It seems most of us, and most assuredly myself, do not
possess the strength of character necessary for the simple truth.
Listening to the older man pronounce us all “divine” and
Beings of Light and Joy, had exactly the same effect on me, as listening to the
young man speaking of dying.
That too, is a form of lying.
To counsel peace and joy, light and love, hope and dreams,
is to deepen the trance…not awaken from it. I am not saying that joy and light
and love and peace do not exist, far from it! I am saying that discoursing about it with the intent and
energy with which the older man spoke, is a form of self soothing, disguising
itself as wonder and awe. He tells
himself, as I once did, that speaking in this manner serves others…when
the truth is, that speaking in that manner, serves only the self made
conceptual mind’s ability to keep us asleep and lost to the truth, which is
always hiding behind the full vulnerability of the current moment.
We hide. That
is what we do. We hide from the
shear terror of the truth, that our lives are so fragile it cannot be born by
the mind that was constructed out of our thoughts. We are so vulnerable.
Soft. Ephemeral. Temporary.
A mist upon the breath, a mere hint of a moment of movement, a trembling
quiver of energy lost amidst the galaxies. We do not belong to ourselves, no matter how much we run
from that truth. We do not even
truly exist…not in the manner our minds would have us believe. We do not control anything, least of
all our outcomes.
I am pretty sure we do not even control our thoughts.
As time has gone by and my mind has slowed down so very
much, and is now capable of stopping altogether…I discover the most amazing
thing. A thought, (I hesitate to
call them mine any longer), arises out of nowhere, like a cloud suddenly obscures
the suns light and bringing the shadows of worry with it. When a thought has no personal content
to it, no emotional sensation of mineness attached… it merely surfaces like a
dolphin breaking the surface of the sea.
I am not great at knowing that in the moment, but that is
why I write it down. So that I can
see, for myself, the lie that is buried underneath the fear. So that I can see, for myself, that I
am believing something that is well outside the boundaries of actual
reality. Let’s revisit the urge
that sat me down at this computer.
I got some information that my expectations and anticipations were not
possible, that the hope I had pinned on my “solution” was in vain. And that led to an emotional and body
based sensation that nearly doubled me over with its weight and heft. But let us check once more…am I
starving in this moment? No, I am
not. May I end up homeless and
completely without resources? That
is entirely unknowable, and to labor under that fear is to lie to myself rather
than to accept the truth that control over my life is not possible.
My current teacher, (yes I am aware that I said I was not
going to talk about either of them – and yet, here I am), posits the notion
that we cannot control any aspect of
our lives. George said that as
well, in this form; “outer events are entirely karmicly delivered, inner
experience is the only place where free will exists.”
My coach, a man I admire a great deal, supports the idea
that we have “influence” over the direction of our lives. Which is a way of saying that we do
possess control.
So which is it…do we have some measure of control, or none whatsoever?
Am I in some way responsible for nearly thirty years of,
almost to abject, poverty? Have I
done something wrong? Missed a
turn? Spoke when I should have
been silent? Or silent when I
should have spoken? These are the
types of answers the conditioned mind requires, and will gladly follow anyone
who purports to have the answer.
The woman, for whom I was most recently working, told me on
more than one occasion that she was “rescuing” me, by giving me a job. I found that to be a bit offensive, given
the profoundly positive change I produced to the appearance of her building…but
I did not challenge her story of my neediness and her heroic action, mainly
because it would not have done any good.
But I reflect back on it now, and realize that there is no
one who can “rescue” another from the contents of their inner experience.
And so, I must join once more with the profound wisdom of my
beloved Teacher. Outer events are
mine by virtue of my karmic load and accountabilities…inner experience and the
wholesale freedom it can provide, can only be acquired by me, through my
willingness to stand in the face of my own personal terrors.
Facing yourself, and not running through fantasy, busyness,
goal acquisition, positive story telling, illusion, or just plain ole lying, I
have found to be a bit like standing in the face of a gale force
hurricane. Everyone around you
counsels that you run for safety, you personally would rather be anywhere, or
anytime else…and yet, standing still is the only thing that will deliver true
freedom, and even that… is not in our control.
I feel that I am getting closer to the time when the truth
might find me, a little bit nearer to living with reality, rather than the
distortions of my fears and anxieties…but who is to say?
I suppose my reactions to the young man who is dying, and
his assertions that it isn’t fair…and to the old man and his continuing need to
feel important and special so that he too, may handle his fears about death and
non-existence, is in some way a measure of the capacity to deal in truth rather
than in lies.
The young man’s death, may turn out to be the best thing
that has ever happened to him…and the old man’s “positive thinking”, may turn
out to be the very worst choice he could be making.
Our conditioned minds are so very polluted with the
illusions that were meant to stave off our existential fears, that we should
not trust anything they have to say.
Or at least…that is my current commitment.
One more attempt to tell the truth rather than to soothe
myself with a lie.
Right this moment; I am comfortable, fed, at ease, and
alive…who is to say what will happen in the future? That is not my business.
My business is with this moment and uncovering the truth, rather
than living with the lie…
Ronni Miller
Photo courtesy of flickr photo sharing and rich wall – to
see more of this artists work follow this link
http://www.flickr.com/photos/richwall100/5786397319/
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