The Calm in the Storm

Oh, man, there is a big part of me that wants to delete so many of my postings from the last year. They are clearly stages in a journey of spiritual growth and I look back at them and say, "Wow, You. Wow. It's so different now."

Everything is so different now. I have engaged with this path for a few years, surrendered to much, followed the lead of signs, connections and keys that are handed to me. In many ways I feel like I've walked through to The Other Side of the Sun, as Madeleine L'Engel puts it. The suns burns away what's not yours and leaves you with just you. Still burning.

No, the health/wellness stuff still isn't really solved but I'm in pursuit and I've seen some things miraculously resolve. That's enough to keep me going. No, I can't seem to finish a few songs I've been working on for years, but others are flowing out like a well-inked fountain pen. They surprise me in their devotion and openness. I traveled last weekend and did it with balance and pacing for the first time ever. I came home NOT sick! I totally rocked it. And there have been other things, too -- tender realizations and embodying the teachings from people further along the path -- and mostly I feel a strange clarity and peace.

There is a calm in the storm.

"The universe plays hardball whether you like it or not. You either get on the field with your catcher’s mitt, or you spend the rest of the time sitting on the bench waiting for nothing to happen. Love is all you ever need to believe in. It will change your whole world whether you’re ready or not."  ~ The Awakened Queen

It's not that I don't have doubts about the things I love -- I don't think I'm anywhere near done with this -- but right now I've got more faith than usual. I'm ok loving what I love. This is new for me. And sometimes I think the Universe knows when you just need a break. I have no idea what happens next. I'll write songs and play music like I always do, I'll try to be a decent friend and make my home a place where I want to spend my time. I'll cook and bake and watch YouTube videos. These days I have this urge to master something, put some roots down in my experience rather than in places or what the world sees as security.

Life unfolds like a flower. It is not to be taken too seriously. It's a thing of beauty and it's here to bring you joy.

I'm posting today to mark the moment.

Desire is the Messenger

"We abandon the most important journey of our lives when we abandon desire. We leave our hearts by the side of the road and head off in the direction of fitting in, getting by, being productive, what have you. Whatever we might gain -- money, position, the approval of others, or just absence of the discontent itself - it's not worth it." - John Eldredge

"Why can I never set my heart on a possible thing? - Ursula K. Le Guin

Some say that if you desire something then the fulfillment of that desire is already within your field, that you are just experiencing its opposite. I find this hard to grasp and yet I know it must be true. As logic and law it makes sense.

But living on the opposite side, on the longing side, on the lack side, is incredibly challenging. I find I want things that seem beyond my control to experience or acquire.

So what if desire's fulfillment appears impossible? Then what is the point? What is the point of desire if not to fulfill itself? Why would such a state overwhelm us if its remedy and relief were not available?

I think it has to to with drawing us out of ourselves by drawing us in. If the desire is pure and I am pulled towards something or someone then I am moving out, I'm expanding in search of connection with the Other, which is also the Self. I am drawn, essentially, towards wholeness or oneness. If the desire is not pure, then I am pulled towards its shadow and separation.

To reign in that longing shows a lack of faith somehow. Living in the unguarded tension of the pull, giving it free reign, is an exercise in absolute trust in oneself and the laws of our universe. We must live the longing, and do it whole-heartedly, too. Desire demands commitment and risk. It's a muddy, intoxicating brew and you have to drink it like doing shots.

I am embarrassed to say that when I have a desire and I can't see how I can possibly attain it, that I get mad at the longing. I get mad at the universe. I despair. In the past I've tried to get rid of the desire, ignore it, repress it, judge it, and judge myself for having it.

But desire is just the messenger. It's the love letter, and destroying the letter doesn't destroy the love. Or it's a fear letter, and destroying the letter doesn't destroy the fear.

I wonder a few things. First, I wonder how to tell if my desires are actually pure? How do I know in my clouded state, with certainty, that I desire something for my highest good and for the highest good of those around me? What is the litmus test for this?

Or does it matter? Is the lesson of desire for our life served no matter if we are lit by it or shadowed? I tend to think our lesson is our lesson. We learn what we need to at the time when we need to learn it.

Second, I wonder if in our clouded state we cannot see desire's fulfillment because the answer is not what we expect? It's like that word game of opposites. When you ask people what is the opposite of love a lot of people say hate. But perhaps the opposite of love is indifference or fear. In the same way, maybe the remedy for our desire is not what we think it is.

It's like a plot twist. And the twist only makes sense, and the payoff is sweet, if you read the whole story. We have to commit to the story.

So these days I am reminded to live the longing. The act of surrender is somehow validation of an essential part of myself. It's an acceptance. I offer myself grace. I offer myself Yes rather than No, without judgment, as a fundamental way of living. So trust desire but get curious about whether or not it's a true desire or a trick. It's not the existence of desire that needs to be shaped, it's the shape of the desire itself.

If all opposites exist then it's worth it to desire something that's incredible, that saves us, and brings us closer to wholeness. Desire that. Trust that. Don't separate yourself from that. Risk everything for that because you can't lose. Allow desire to take residence in your guts without fear and without despair, and even without expectation that you know the answer now, but you will when you get to that part of the story.

Shadow box with your ego in search of the divine. She's shining a bright fucking light and desires you, too.