It seems the opening that has pervaded my heart has now moved down into my gut, deconstructing all the structures that formed my resistance to Life. Not Pleasant.

I feel like I’m in the middle of a foreign land where nothing is familiar. Exhaustion is forcing me to allow something to occur that is beyond my control, an organic process in which there is nothing left of a “me” to defend against the greater reality of the Holy.

Seeing that the mess of life IS the holy reality. Deeply humbling.

Nothing to hold onto. All the things that used to give me a solid sense of self are being revealed as illusory—ideas about myself, core patterns that were based in striving for maternal love, conditioning based on lack, etc.

I’m seeing how the belief in things that used to prop me up and give me a sense of past and future are not valid. What once appeared to be opaque and solid is now revealed as empty as the wind.

It seems that all the shifts  I’ve experienced are integrating and dissolving  my most cherished beliefs and patterns, ones that I did not even know I had. Seeing the beliefs that underpin my preferences and the payoffs for self-rejection. Seeing the ways I’ve actually avoided love and preferred to be separate.

There is nothing left to do but let go. Everything else is being revealed as a dead end.

This is deeply sobering. I don’t even know what it means to “let go.” Only that falling  into this not-knowing is the only honest and sincere response possible.

A sense of total exhaustion, a defeat. Something in me is loosening, something that has been tight for so very long.

Accepting that the Real cannot be possessed or objectified, it can only be embodied. The price of embodiment is to be stripped of all that I have ever clung to.

The dissolving feels violent only in my resistance to it. In the moments of surrender there is a gentle sense of being carried in a restful silence.

The old, familiar patterns are so painful and obsolete now, the ones that used to be comforting….such as finding refuge in the future, striving for a better (fill in the blank), notions of progress, etc.

Seeing that the momentum of thoughts is ultimately innocent and impersonal. This exhaustion is preventing the usual striving to control the mind. All I can do is see.

Seeing how loyal I’ve been to concepts and images to guide me and how these concepts have no inherent truth to them. Yet they used to provide me with a sense of traction and a grip on Life. This grip seemed to be an attempt at ownership over life, over “my life.” Everywhere I turn I seemed to be faced with the reality that the concept of  “my” is a fiction.

Seeing that Life does not need a “me” or the “mind” to maintain it. Life does not need an overlay of concepts, thoughts, images or goals to validate or steer it. Seeing how I used to see Life as the overlay, rather than as it really is.

Life in its purity is actually the absence of this overlay and in this absence there is a current that can be trusted, for it is divine intelligence itself—the same intelligence that beats my heart and breathes my lungs.

Admitting this feels like such relief, as though I can truly rest for the first time. Realizing I’ve been trying to hold up something that is not real and that’s why I feel so exhausted. The letting go is happening outside of what I could even call “my control.” It’s just letting go.

The price of this un-burdening is being stripped and exposed to my own complicity in self-fragmentation.

And there is something fresh emerging as the structures dissolve, a vast, nameless benevolence, a holy intimacy that knows everything as Itself.

As the structures dissolve, I see that there is nothing “to do” because belief in a separate doing is a defense against the reality of One. I can only BE. The “doingness” that wants to occur can only “be done.”

This ancient clench is relaxing into an openness that is beyond the concept of openness….because in this openness there is no such thing as “closed-ness” to compare it to. This radical openness is revealed to be the true state of “what is” in every moment, no matter what form the moment takes.

Heather's morning pic

 

 

(photo by Heather Bartels-Hallenbeck)

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