“Oroborus, symbol of eternal life
dig a tunnel through light, through ignorant walls
I’m counting the days but I’m dying
Grow up with impatience I’m falling down
On the peaks of radiant mountains
this truth is growing before before me
My attention fixed on this silence
Rediscover life while I’m breathing
Designing the shape of material
Frozen icon distant reminder
Mankind has forgotten the gateways
By the mouth of the serpent regenerate”
Oroborus, by Gojira
“To be human is to suffer.”
This statement is not true, but it’s what most of us believe; even those like me who tell themselves they don’t. It is true, however, that to be human is to experience pain, whether or not we must. But pain goes deeper than just the suffering we cause ourselves by believing a lie. Sometimes specific pain is the reason we are here. Surpassing pain leads to ever~increasing states of fulfillment and peace.
How can we tell why we are suffering? There’s no point in trying, yet I find I always want to know the why, though the reasons are usually infinite and intertwined. A major indicator, however, is evident in all aspects of my life that are being hindered by pain. Once my life ground to a halt due to debilitating spinal pain, I had no choice but to face the reality of my creation head~on.
All I had to do was look it in the eye and acknowledge that it was not Me, and the powers that be swooped in and did the rest. After eight years of increasing debilitation, I am healed and it is done. My previous post on this subject, Ending Physical Pain: For Good details the process as prescribed by master Eckhardt Tolle. It works. Doesn’t matter what kind of pain it is, emotional or physical, or how incurable. The only catch is that if you’re not ready to move on from the lesson your pain is trying to teach you, it won’t heal, or another, similar sort of pain will take its place. If what your pain is teaching you is a lesson you came here to learn, you’ll live it until you’ve learned it. That may mean being in pain your entire life, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer every step of the way.
It’s so strange to me now that three months ago I was bedridden more often than I wasn’t, bent on figuring out how I was going to live out my dreams from the bedroom, and now I’m working in the garden, running up and down stairs like a teenager and planning for the rest of my life. What’s most interesting is that nothing has really changed.
I expected the very Earth itself to hold its breath or throw a party, or mourn the years I spent in bed. I expected people around me to be shocked and amazed, and feel like something really huge and inexplicable had taken place, and that they would shout to the rooftops that they had seen a miracle occur. But none of that happened. It was all a rather quiet affair. I would tell people that I was cured and they’d say “That’s awesome…hey, did you see that blog on Facebook about…” and I’d want to grab them by their shoulders and say “WAIT! Didn’t you hear me?? I’M CURED!!!!“, but in the end it was best to move on with them.
Much of people’s reactions were due to the fact that I hid my pain well. The end of my pain meant little more to the world around me than that my boss would no longer be getting those inevitable, early morning call~ins, or that I could make it to my classes every day. But I didn’t need anyone else to be shocked. I, myself, was more shocked than anyone.
The way it all went down was one miracle after another. I got to the point where I was dropping classes and not able to work because of pinched nerves and spinal migraines that kept me in bed for days at a time. In search for disability services, I returned to the chiropractor that had initially taken the x~rays of my spine years ago, who had diagnosed irreversible spinal fusion. New x~rays would prove that I could no longer physically function in society. It was a dark thought for me, that my body could no longer do what I wanted it to do.
But the new x~rays showed something entirely different. My spine was miraculously no longer fusing itself together. My condition had reversed and was suddenly reversible. I had adjustments three times a week for three weeks, two times a week for three weeks, and once a week for two months. And here I am. Healed.
All we have to do is reach out to that Something More, and we don’t have to do that gracefully or easily. We can crawl towards it on bleeding knees, moaning the entire way…as long as we are still crawling. All we have to do is take just a few steps towards a goal and a way is made. Yes, made. Designed by the exquisite Everything, whose fingers are people and bones and synchronicities. This is what is meant by the Universe making a way for us, the most awesome part of us that can pull all the strings and make magic happen when we meet It halfway. Nothing is set in stone, no condition is permanent.
It can be a time to stop imagining that the Universe is not entirely capable of stepping in when we’ve done all we can. It can be a time to stop hindering ourselves and start using the unimaginable power we have access to, to empty ourselves just enough that some small trickle of the light or sound can flow through. We need only allow it in.
Does that mean that I can now live happily ever after? Interestingly enough, no. Just as soon as the physical pain was gone, a whole host of new problems flooded my life situation. One of the medications I was for the depression I was experiencing ravaged my faculties and I had to drop out of school, despite the willingness of professors to work with me and my increasing ability to sit in the chairs and do the work. Due to my ages~past misdiagnosis of bipolar, and the list of medications that only caused more problems, I have been outspoken most of my life on the dangers of such diagnoses, and the tendency that carelessly scripted psychiatric medications have to exacerbate problems that therapy could greatly improve. That I agreed to this medicine and it caused so many problems made me angry. The side effects lasted for months as I slowly weaned myself off of the medication, ranging from sudden, extreme rages, derealization episodes and black depressions.
The worst of it was that I seemed cut off from spiritual escape. I couldn’t focus my mind long enough to meet with my master or travel the other dimensions that I’m accustomed to visiting when I need to center myself. I started smoking cigarettes and even drank some alcohol on occasion, after having not touched either in fifteen or more years. The world around me seemed to go mad. It wouldn’t stop raining; many places in my town flooded, then the entire state. My daughter got into a bad car accident, totaling her car and causing her injury. My nephew’s father went into the mental ward, causing him suffer yet another suicidal depression. Shortly after that his mom, my twin sister, disappeared into thin air. The police got involved. We had no idea if she was alive or dead for weeks, until we got an email saying she had entered a convent and was never coming home. I never got to say goodbye.
This all threw me into a midlife crisis, which I now find myself in the midst of. I have no idea who I am or how I am perceived by others, which seems to be the ego’s intense focus at any given moment. I feel as if I can only cause damage to those around me, and so I am not capable of being in personal relationships. I have removed myself from all social media and cut down on my personal interactions with friends who, interestingly enough, all seem to be quite busy with their own lives at the moment, so it works out fine with no hard feelings involved.
The feeling of having nothing to offer the world but pain, and being in pain because of the world is so intense that I have no choice but to return to silence, to return to my master
wasn’t that what my disabling spinal pain was also trying to teach me? The world around me becoming so intense that I had no choice but to return to the silence? Isn’t that what pain is for? To remind us that everything we need is a breath away. Every answer we have ever asked is in the glorious, Wordless Chamber of the soul. The lesson I’m learning now is that same lesson I was learning in bed, day after day. It’s the same lesson I’ve been learning my entire life, and the learning comes and goes, intermingled with forgetting.
Therefore… if, as human beings, we will continually be subject to pain throughout our many cycles upon the Earth, it would benefit us to stop focusing solely on the pain and
start focusing on the cure. That cure is the silencing of the suffering victim inside.
I can stop now. Right now. Shut all the thoughts down and listen to my breathing. The only trouble with this process is remembering to do it. It has taken over ten years to get to the point that I am at now, only for it to be ripped away, leaving me naked in the dark and at the mercy of my never~silenced voice. But even here I am grateful. Even here there is hope, and it’s taken me ten years to be able to know that. It could be another ten years before I can hold silence, but to paraphrase one of Ram Dass’s favorite sayings, “What else am I gonna do?”
We fall asleep, we wake, over and over. We fall asleep and die, we wake as another human, new to the Earth but ages old. We travel through time with our mind, past to future and back again, dreaming in those eras that we label good or bad, painful or pleasurable. We create worlds that we live in, and often those worlds are painful, and we imagine that the pain comes from outside, when it is merely a reflection from within.
We have not felt, or have felt but have forgotten, the pleasure of being in this exact spot, in this exact moment, the pleasure of creating a world in which joy reigns. We label life, think it is one thing when it is something completely different. At its root, life is all things and every thing, and whatever we want it to be. It is bliss, waiting for us to refocus enough to notice it. Only we can make it blissful.
I can stop now. Right now. I can feel the knowledge burning within me that I hold the cosmic keys to my creation and times. Anything is possible, and only fear can keep me from becoming this new thing that waits beneath the shell of misery I believe to be reality. Even in this state of complete unknowing and constant mental turmoil, I am aware that there is a purpose.
Only when we have forgotten who we are, we remember that we are not what we believe ourselves to be, and that is vital to whatever future Now we create, for rise or ruin. We must reincarnate ourselves into the ever~more~empty vessels through which all possibilities flow. In the wake of being cured of the disability I defined myself with, I can imagine no better lesson than for that self to die so that a fresh, new consciousness can be born.
The persona I had become is dying, and it is extremely painful. I go to work and come home and recluse myself and chant, chant, chant. I have never chanted before, and to be honest I thought I never would, but when the ego is going mad chanting is a key. A few weeks ago I chanted for four days. By that fourth day a euphoria was coming over me, filling with that oneness of the universe and myself as a part of it, grasping my abilities of materianimus once more, using them to shape my world back into the soft, rounded path, away from the thorns and potholes I had grown too accustomed to. And then I slept again, and the misery returned. It’s like menopause, a burning away that waxes and wanes until it is done. I can fight against it and be angry that I cannot hold focus for long, or I can flow with it, be one with it, fully integrate it into myself and give it acceptance. It’s a frightening process, to face one’s fears and embrace them, yet this truly is the only way through. Straight through the maze, walking through perceived walls.
My master, DapRen, acquisitioned me to help him build a temple on Stilleverden, a planet devoid of life but plants. I go there and ring the glass bell anytime life on Earth gets too complicated. It’s a larger version of an inverted crystal wine glass, and the part that rings is a wet, plasticized mat that, when swung in a wide circle, causes the HU sound to echo out across the ocean. That no one or nothing is there but me to hear it means everything.
As tumultuous as this phase sounds, I am finally able to juggle the intense emotions of the human experience. I am separate from them while simultaneously experiencing them, and finally have a concrete understanding of inner stillness as the single solution to any maze. I love this part of my spiritual walk; that Knowing even in the midst of profound Unknowing, dark and light in equal parts, turmoil intermingled with a calm acceptance of it and an understanding that it is not for nothing.
I’m so ready for what the future holds, so ready