The Un-Becoming
It is strange, the way the ground
disappears under your feet,
becomes open space, prairie land,
the grey swill of all unknowing.
Here, we are alone,
born again
into our true becoming,
all paths leading into one.
Here, it is terrifying, the way
the calling haunts the shadows.
O – there are a hundred ways to flee,
to take the spectral hand and leave.
Give in, give in – they whisper
and it seems easy just to leave
it all behind, your heart so tired
after all that trying, all this walking
and for what, for this? Turn back.
Yes, yes, the harpies hiss
and hesitating, you almost do
but wait – listen to what sings
within the shroud of mist;
this too will pass, and this and this
and all that is the un-becoming
will exist anew, and all that will remain
is the beautiful, becoming you.
(From Book of Days, a life's work in progress)
Monday, March 12, 2007
"Hers is the mystery of rooms..." (Murray Bodo, OFM)
The troubadour tells the story of the bliss and the letting go. It is the union of spirit and body, of divine and being. The troubadour wanders the world free of fetters, singing their song.
I am no singer, but my song can reach around the world. I slip-slide around because every time I think to myself: I have this journey to tell – I hear a harpie in my head saying: why would anyone be interested in you?
And of course, that could be true. Maybe that is why I tentatively embrace the blogsphere – because it claims the right to tell the daily story across the world? But what is the story told? What do I include, and what do I cut out? How truthful is truthful, and how much is protection.
My story is about me, yes, but also about the not-me. It is about the journey towards the magic. Ah, the beauty and frustration of reaching the gate of impasse!
(it is never too late to step through the gate)
So – the last few years have felt like a stripping away. And once everything gets stripped away, I am left clinging on to the habits I have accumulated – a strange and not to comfortable feeling of being empty of purpose, absent of personality – like shells on the beach, picked clean of inhabitants. Thus becomes the duel of automaton v. free-thought creativity – a kind of repetitive malfunction of idea and fall, idea and fall.
Yet, even though I recognise where I am, the idea of letting go of those habits is terrifying, because all around is a grey mist, swirling, thick as glue and wild as thunder – and most of the time, you don’t know if you are on solid ground or suspended in mid-air. If you let go, you might find there is only space to swallow you up. But let go I must, and I am scared to let go, and scared again not to.
I understand that this is where I am to meet myself walking – this space of dreams and freedom. At this time, I allow that small breath of belief to surface, the breath that speaks the name of all that supports and guides me. I open my arms to embrace the destiny that is my own. I chose the Fool’s Path and now I am being asked to jump into it, and to do that, I must believe in the magic, because that is what follows the jump – even (and this is the trick) even if I land flat on my face and get bruised. I feel like I could do with someone creeping up and saying BOO! when I least expect it, so I jump without thinking. A bit like the turn away and rip it off technique of removing an elastoplast!
Truth is, I am afraid. Last time I took that risk, I hurt so badly. The learning that I am about to jump into might hurt just as bad, might be just as difficult to live within, and that scares me.
Yet, somewhere inside, I hear this small voice whisper it might be beautiful…
and that is the point of the leap of faith – you don’t know.
If I want to follow my bliss, then right here and now, I need courage to jump, and discipline to change. If I aspire to create a world I wish to be part of, then I need to first create that world within my own life. I aspire to the Fool’s way: love, expression, magic, freedom. We each have the wonderful capacity to love, laugh, share joy, pleasure, expression, to experience such emotions as to astound us. That is beautiful. There is no restriction on that – not truly. I aspire to a world that is one of Love, peace, honesty, integrity, connection, awareness, beauty…I want to connect to myself and to others, to life, to the spirit. There is too much disconnectedness in this world. Too much fear and shame.
I want to be unashamed of who I am, and express my being fully in this world. Yet, that brings me back to the first question about honesty. There have been times when, to protect or care for others, I have mediated my sexual expression and along the way, it has got twisted up, caused a split and is where I feel most confused.
How do I experience and express love, sensuality, sexuality in the world?
I have always believed there to be an intrinsic union between the
I am no singer, but my song can reach around the world. I slip-slide around because every time I think to myself: I have this journey to tell – I hear a harpie in my head saying: why would anyone be interested in you?
And of course, that could be true. Maybe that is why I tentatively embrace the blogsphere – because it claims the right to tell the daily story across the world? But what is the story told? What do I include, and what do I cut out? How truthful is truthful, and how much is protection.
My story is about me, yes, but also about the not-me. It is about the journey towards the magic. Ah, the beauty and frustration of reaching the gate of impasse!
(it is never too late to step through the gate)
So – the last few years have felt like a stripping away. And once everything gets stripped away, I am left clinging on to the habits I have accumulated – a strange and not to comfortable feeling of being empty of purpose, absent of personality – like shells on the beach, picked clean of inhabitants. Thus becomes the duel of automaton v. free-thought creativity – a kind of repetitive malfunction of idea and fall, idea and fall.
Yet, even though I recognise where I am, the idea of letting go of those habits is terrifying, because all around is a grey mist, swirling, thick as glue and wild as thunder – and most of the time, you don’t know if you are on solid ground or suspended in mid-air. If you let go, you might find there is only space to swallow you up. But let go I must, and I am scared to let go, and scared again not to.
I understand that this is where I am to meet myself walking – this space of dreams and freedom. At this time, I allow that small breath of belief to surface, the breath that speaks the name of all that supports and guides me. I open my arms to embrace the destiny that is my own. I chose the Fool’s Path and now I am being asked to jump into it, and to do that, I must believe in the magic, because that is what follows the jump – even (and this is the trick) even if I land flat on my face and get bruised. I feel like I could do with someone creeping up and saying BOO! when I least expect it, so I jump without thinking. A bit like the turn away and rip it off technique of removing an elastoplast!
Truth is, I am afraid. Last time I took that risk, I hurt so badly. The learning that I am about to jump into might hurt just as bad, might be just as difficult to live within, and that scares me.
Yet, somewhere inside, I hear this small voice whisper it might be beautiful…
and that is the point of the leap of faith – you don’t know.
If I want to follow my bliss, then right here and now, I need courage to jump, and discipline to change. If I aspire to create a world I wish to be part of, then I need to first create that world within my own life. I aspire to the Fool’s way: love, expression, magic, freedom. We each have the wonderful capacity to love, laugh, share joy, pleasure, expression, to experience such emotions as to astound us. That is beautiful. There is no restriction on that – not truly. I aspire to a world that is one of Love, peace, honesty, integrity, connection, awareness, beauty…I want to connect to myself and to others, to life, to the spirit. There is too much disconnectedness in this world. Too much fear and shame.
I want to be unashamed of who I am, and express my being fully in this world. Yet, that brings me back to the first question about honesty. There have been times when, to protect or care for others, I have mediated my sexual expression and along the way, it has got twisted up, caused a split and is where I feel most confused.
How do I experience and express love, sensuality, sexuality in the world?
I have always believed there to be an intrinsic union between the
SPIRITUAL SEXUAL CREATIVE
and that this is the experience of the ecstatic spirit, and the union of all 3 aspects sets us free into our natural divinity. A note here though – the sexual ecstatic does not, I have come to understand, necessarily mean sexual activity, but can be a completeness of expression of sexuality, but an empowered choice of celibacy (odd, I know…still working on that one!)
For me, I understand this trinity as being the key to divinity, this balanced union, this integrated whole. Ah – to have the courage and discipline to lead a balanced life! It is not that we have to be perfect, just that to play an instrument to its full beauty, it must be in tune, that is all. First, I had too much in the sexual ecstatic – discovering this release and magic first. Then, I had too much in the spiritual ecstatic, and I became disconnected from my sexual power centre, my wild woman. Now, I am discovering the path to harmony.
March 2007
I am still looking
for that certain place
where all becomes
the ecstatic kiss,
the lift of the divine
that carries us to bliss.
Still waiting, yes,
beside the river fall,
whispering
yes, yes, yes…
(from Book of Days, a life-work in progress, V Bennett)
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