While revering the mystery of others, our individuation summons each of us to stand in the presence of our own mystery, and become more fully responsible for who we are in this journey we call our life. So often the idea of individuation has been confused with self-indulgence or mere individualism, but what individuation more often asks of us is the surrender of the ego’s agenda of security and emotional reinforcement, in favor of humbling service to the soul’s intent. . . .
If the agenda of the first half of life is social, meeting the demands and expectations our milieu asks of us, then the questions of the second half of life are spiritual, addressing the larger issue of meaning. The psychology of the first half of life is driven by the fantasy of acquisition: gaining ego strength to deal with separation, separating from the overt domination of parents, acquiring a standing in the world. . . . But then the second half of life asks of us, and ultimately demands, relinquishment--relinquishment of identification with property, roles, status, provisional identities—and the embrace of other, inwardly confirmed values. ~ James Hollis
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The world looks different from the woods. It just does. I am able to hear myself more clearly, to see things more clearly. It is easy and pure. I am in closer connection with myself, my truth, my "signal." It is integrity, and wholeness.
And then, I return to the "real world." And it is cluttered by other peoples values and judgements. This is "noise." I return to the woods, over and over, to connect with my signal, my holiness, my truth. Where the signal is strongest. This blog is personal, it contains the secrets in my heart. And, the truest test I can meet is this: are my words true in the woods? Because if the words are true in the woods, where my signal is strongest, then they are my deepest truth. If it is true in my body in the woods, then it is true - no matter what the world may say about them. Maybe (almost) everything we do is learned behavior, passed down to us. Maybe our true state is one of peace. If we are not in peace, we are not in our true state. Our truth.
As Dave Asprey says, if we are not the masters of our impulses, they are the masters of us. I recently had an experience of being filled with a disturbed energy. Wanted to be left alone. Everyone was pulling on me, all I could feel was pressure. And, I was aware that it was all in my head, no one was actually pulling on me. Those that wanted my attention, were simply offering love and connection, but it felt like pressure. I was in it, it had me. And then, I became aware, somehow, of my Nana. She is a painful figure in my mother’s history. Out of nowhere, the words "Is this what it was like for you Nana?" came to my mind. If what I was feeling was even a fraction of her pain - because, based on her actions, it would’ve been only a fraction - then I have no right to judge. I simply have no right to judge. Feeling what I was feeling, in that moment of blinding pain, I could understand the actions she took. In this state, I could understand how her actions made sense. We do what we do for the reasons that we do it. And, our actions have an impact on others, sometimes a terrible and painful price for our behavior. And, in that moment, I could see how it was all that could be done. Astonishingly, as I asked the question, I felt the disturbance lifting. When I lifted the judgement, the feeling lifted as well. I was no longer carrying it, and all that remained was a loving peace. And so, maybe this is a tool: when we are gripped by something other than peace, the question is this "how it was for you, ________?" Fill in the blank of whatever name comes to mind. Because how can we judge when we feel the same feelings, when we’re gripped by a rhythm, a resonance, a refrain, of an ancestors experience. We are born so pure. And then, we are imprinted by those around us. Those that love us the most. We receive imprints of their coping techniques, their perspective, their ways. They become our ways, without any decision on our part. The same is true for them. They received the ways of their people. And so on. And so we carry refrains of the ways of our predecessors, our people. And we pick up our own as well. Hopefully bending toward the light, as possible. But that means we carry much that is not ours, that we can sit down, that we do not need. That blocks the signal left our true self. There is an emptying, a lightning, that suffuses this body in the woods. Almost like microscopic Swiss cheese, this body grows gossamer light and airy. An effortless pulling on the heart leads, the muscles of the body respond and support the pull. Movement so effortless it feels like floating to keep up with my heart.
Thinking stops, the lightest infusion of knowing takes over. THIS is living. (Not that cluttered confusion out there.) Such is the way of the woods. God, I invite you in forever. My eyes already touch
the sunny hill, going far ahead of the road I have begun. And so we are grasped by something we cannot grasp. It has an inner light, and changes us, even if we do not reach it, into something which, hardly sensing, we have already become. A gesture waves us on, answering our own wave, but what we feel is the wind in our face. ~Rainer Maria Rilke My mom has been sick for a long time. She's in a lot of pain, and she's getting worse. It is highly likely that she will continue to get worse, from here on out. Aging is like that. And, we still have painful dynamics. Wounds. Hurtful ways. At least, I do. I feel it. I have no idea what she feels.
As a daughter, I carry a lifetime of this dynamic. Perhaps we always feel like a child with our parents. And, at the same time, I'm a woman of 48 years. A mother myself. An adult. As Dave Asprey writes, until we control our impulses, they control us. And so, the opportunity before me is to love her. Simply love her. Hold within myself a space that is conscious and aware, to hold her gently and love her. To like her. No matter what she does, or doesn't, do. To remove all expectations, all words, all wounds, and to focus all of my effort on loving her, accepting her, trusting her, and liking her. To control the impulse to react, to be wounded, to put up a wall. To give to her what I would want for her to give to me. The New Age movement loves to call women Goddesses. This is a concept I cannot relate to. I actually recoil internally when I hear the words. To call oneself a Goddess feels too limiting, tor defined, too rigid. While I have never related to the idea of being a Goddess, I can definitely relate to the idea of embodying Goddess, or feminine, energy. It’s why I use my whole body to comfort. It’s why I love to touch the skin of my husband and children. It’s why my body loves the woods and dancing. It’s why I feel energy in my body in constellation work. I embody feminine energy, but I do not define myself exclusively by it. Because I also embody masculine energy. I carry, hold, express, live both. To identify with one external image feels like choosing, rejecting, the totality of all that I am. And this I cannot do.
One way to immediately shift into more feminine energy is to close your eyes. Our eyes dominate our senses, but they miss or misinterpret important clues like breadth, intonation, feeling, pain. They thrust us forward, and keep us in our heads, rather than in the present moment and open.
The world is a very different place when experienced through closed eyes. I read a lot of books, blogs, and social media by people that have what I want to: a (seemingly) deep spiritual path and connection with the Divine. There is a place for learning from others and being inspired by what is possible, but in truth, I think my time would be better spent opening my heart and turning myself over to the Divine, rather than reading about someone else’s experiences. Even my most imperfect personal experiences are more meaningful than witnessing someone else's experiences.
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