I read an article this morning by one of my most beloved teachers, Natalie Goldberg. She wrote about the New Year and about death. Today her words are the perfect match to my fear. Through her words I know her, am her, and I know how death is an ally when fear paralyzes.
I berate myself for fear. Surely someone else, perhaps everyone else, would be able to handle uncertainty with more grace and ease than me. Surely I am over-dramatic and make everything into more than it is. Surely I am flawed and should be fixed. Surely...
I listen, and sit amazed at the voice that arises out of fear and uncertainty. I am astounded by the strength of it yet slip it on seamlessly. It's familiar enough, that inner voice -- critic and executioner. And although I can name her and know that she is a part of me, my darkness, her weight does not lessen.
Death is my friend in moments like these. Death and the reminder that death is ultimately mine frees me of grasping. For what else loosens our grasp more than death itself.
When I reflect on our impermanence it's like I become the blithe and laughing child I once was. I picture myself perched high up on a rocky ledge laughing, legs dangling, looking down on the grown-up me, light hearted and carefree with the knowledge that it's just a little thing, how silly I am to let it take me out life's joy. All of the sudden the paradigm shifts, a telescope swings to sight a whole new universe, one where the colors are bright and fiery, stars wiz past, explode, are born, and there is harmony, flowing, dancing no matter the bumping and colliding. All of it is just as it is meant to be. A big beautiful mess. I let go. I simply am. I know it for the precious, fleeting gift it is, and I don't want to miss any of it.
So how could I spend my life letting fear dictate? I do because I have an ego, I have a story and am conditioned well to live out past pain and projected failing. But not always. Not always. That's my grace.
Sitting in the wake of imagined disaster and failure, reflecting on the end of life makes this moment so much more tender and honest, so much more open. This is what remembering death offers. This moment will never come again, never like this. Ever. So I ask myself what do I choose to make of it? This is my practice of being awake. Can I see that the gift is just being alive to have the experience?
I'm working on it.
Beautiful thoughts Chantill! I particularly like the image of the child with feet dangling over the universe. The idea of simply accepting the ride and all its ego oriented bumps with a child like amazement is good... healthy... soulful. The idea of amazement with "where we are in life" is often difficult. We're often clouded in guilt, pain and doubt; the road seems ominous and indeed dangerous. But isn't this a healthy thing? Doesn't it ground us to a process of thinking that will eventually still get us where we are going? Your doubts and fears are good because they are the yin of the yang of adventure. That is certainly a grace! I'm pleased to be one of the people you call friend and soulful companion on your journey. Namaste!
ReplyDeleteI love how your contemplation of death leads to confirmation of practicing your 'awakeness' - through meditation as well as through life. I also love your 'big beautiful mess' inside the dancing cosmos of your freshly perceived universe. To let go is truly an integration I think w all strive to locate in our hearts and minds. You are well on your way. You hold up your ego and take a glimpse and know that underneath all of this you sense if not see and manifest a more balanced and less fragile space to hold your thoughts and desires. Your journey is ever unfolding and a joy to witness :-)
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