Tag: spiritual path

Always In Joy

On By Just StephIn Authentic Living Series, My Odyssey1 Comment

Do you remember when you were a teenager; when there was a guy (or girl) that you really liked and who you wanted to notice you. Do you remember how you reacted?  Do you remember what you did?  Do you remember finding out everything you could about them and then getting interested in it yourself?  Sometimes you’d give up your own interests in order to pursue theirs in the hopes that by insinuating yourself into their world; by showing an interest in their interests, they’d be more likely to notice you.

Maybe it even worked.  Maybe they did notice you.  Maybe you hooked up and had an awesome time of it.  Perhaps for a while you felt like true soul mates; perfect for each other in every way.  But chances are that somewhere along the line something went horribly wrong.  There came a point when you realized that it was all about them.  Everything was about them; all of it; everything that you did together; everything that you talk about; everything that you ‘share’ is really all about them.  Well, of course it is.  You created it that way.   And chances are that you started to feel shorted; slighted even.  You may have even attempted to start introducing your own interests into the relationship in the hopes to correct the imbalance.

Then of course there were probably misunderstandings and miscommunications due to the fact that the other person simply could not comprehend what was happening.  Weren’t the pair of you happy?  Didn’t you both enjoy the same things; enjoy talking about them and spending time together doing them?  Weren’t they the same as they had always been?  Why was it suddenly that what they were giving you was no longer enough?  Why have you suddenly become so demanding and dissatisfied?

And that of course made things worse didn’t it?  Because how do you tell someone that your entire relationship was based on your desire to get them into your life in whatever way possible?  How do you explain that you were never entirely open with them; that when you met it wasn’t on equal terms because you didn’t want them to get scared off or to lose interest?  How do you explain that what you really wanted, more than anything – what you still want – was and is to have a relationship of equals; where both of you were interested in what made the other person tick, even if you didn’t necessarily share all of the same interests?

I know, I know, it seemed like the natural thing to do at the time.  After all, how could you possibly have known that you were selling yourself short in order to get their attention and bring them into your life?  It’s a very easy trap to slip into.  In fact, it’s so easy that chances are, if you stop and take a good hard look at your life right now and at the people in it, you will find that one or more of the relationships that you are currently in are based on the exact same principles as those high school relationships.

It doesn’t matter which side of the equation that you are on; whether you are one of those people who gave up their own interests in order to capture the attention of another person, or whether you were the one who was enamored by the person who seemed to fit your life so perfectly in every way.  Be honest with yourself – is this truly a relationship of equals?  Is it?  Because if it is not, a relationship of equals you need to brace yourself; you see, there will come a time when one or both of you will realize that the relationship is lopsided and will want to correct that imbalance.

Better to take the time now to find out what makes the other person tick; to make sure that you are giving – and receiving – equally then to wait for things to fall apart.  Hopefully you will find that openness and honesty with your partner are enough to clear things up and to recreate your relationship as a partnership of equals; individuals who are truly interested in each other and in where your personal and spiritual journeys are taking you.  If not, well, it is never too late to become the person that you were always meant to be; to take the steps you need to put yourself firmly on your own path to authenticity.

If your significant other chooses to join you, or at least support you in becoming that authentic self, fine and good, you have nothing to worry about and the journey will be a joyful one because you will have the support and company of the one with which you share your life; a choice that true soul mates (or soul mates destined to work together for long periods of time) will do.

If they are not interested in joining or supporting you, do not allow their incredulity or anger with the changes in you to halt your own development.  Do not force them.  Do not feel that you have to hold onto them.  If it makes them too uncomfortable, they will leave (physically or emotionally).  This is not a reflection on you, and it is not your fault if the relationship disintegrates.  It is their decision whether or not they wish to include the person you are becoming;  your authentic self;  in their own view of reality.

Who knows, your authentic self, your path, may not be the one that is right for them and they may feel that to join you or even support you is undermining their own integrity.  Do not fight this if it happens, and do not allow it to influence your own becoming.  If another person’s path leads them in a way that does not bring you joy you do not have to follow out of loyalty for the joy and purpose that you once shared.

Move forward in joy.  Always in joy, and always in the direction that makes your heart smile.

The Lesson of the Red Rain Boots

On By Just StephIn Metaphysical MussingsLeave a comment

“Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby”

~ Langston Hughes

When my daughters were small, I remember a day when I had taken them out for lunch.  While we were inside eating it started to rain.  This wasn’t just a pleasant summer afternoon rain shower, but a full-on wash-the-skies-clean kind of torrential rain; the kind that leaves everything soggy for hours afterwards; even the air.

It was still raining (though not quite so hard) by the time we left the restaurant and both of my girls were squealing in delight at the sheer number of puddles in the parking lot.  Some of the puddles, I noticed, were as large as small ponds, and probably just as deep.

Pausing to open my umbrella after a warning to both of the girls about keeping their feet dry, I let go of my youngest daughter’s hand for an instant, and a moment later she was knee deep in a puddle, giggling madly and splashing like a duck.  With a cry of warning I snatched her out; wrung out her dress as you would a washcloth and, after admonishing both of them (again) to stay out of the puddles because we had a long ride in the car ahead of us, we slowly made our way to the car; navigating around puddles and trying for the dry spots. Or rather I was trying for the dry spots.  Both of my daughters were angling for the puddles and my shoulders were starting to get sore from pulling them back.

We were about halfway across the parking lot when I noticed a brightly colored figure headed in our direction.  It was a woman; an old woman.  With her pure white nimbus of hair and a face lined in a thousand wrinkles, she looked like one of those dried apple head dolls that the pioneers used to make.  But it wasn’t her age that caught my attention, nor was it her attire (she was dressed in a bright yellow rain slicker, red rain boots, a purple rain hat).  What caught my attention was that she was making a point not to avoid the puddles, but to jump in them.

I stood there – stunned; unable to tear my eyes away, though I could see from the corner of my eye that both of my girls were watching her with absolute awe and rapture.

Finally, when her puddle jumping brought her to within a few feet of where I stood, she realized that there was someone in front of her and paused in her puddle jumping long enough to look up and meet my eye.  The stunned expression on my face must have amused her, because she grinned from ear to ear and then threw her head back and laughed like a loon.

“Aw sweetie,” she said to me finally – a grin still in her voice – it’s not as bad as all that.  Really, I’ve been waiting all my life to do this!  You’ll see.  One day you’ll jump in the puddles too.”  And then, with another grin for me and a wave for the girls, she had passed us, and life went back to normal. Well, almost normal.  I didn’t have the heart to keep the girls out of the puddles after that, and it was a long and soggy trip home.

But even now, years later I can’t get that woman and her bright red rain boots out of my mind, for how far do most of us go to avoid what we perceive as the negative things in our lives?

Honestly, I know that dealing with negative people and negative situations is unpleasant – and something most of us will avoid like the plague if given the chance, but how do we know that those puddles of negativity haven’t been put in our way for a reason? How do we know that we aren’t supposed to go through them instead of around them?

Who knows, those puddles might not even have been put in our way for our own experience.  Maybe, just maybe, someone on the other side of the parking lot is watching us; someone who has been avoiding negative situations of their own because they don’t have the courage to face them.

And maybe, just maybe, when they see you splashing through those problems in your red rain boots and laughing like a loon, they’ll find the courage to do something that they’ve never thought possible.

Trailblazing vs. Tradition

On By Just StephIn Metaphysical MussingsLeave a comment

It has been said that the path to spiritual enlightenment is like climbing a mountain.  This mountain has been climbed before and those who have successfully reached the summit describe the views from the top with such awe and wonder that those who have not yet scaled its heights are inspired to begin (or continue on with) their own journeys.

In fact, this mountain has been climbed by so many people throughout the ages that there are well-worn paths imbedded in the mountain’s face; some are worn deeper than others, carving niches right through solid rock from the passing of so many feet; while others are mere footpaths that tend to disappear whenever a thicket or stony ridge intrudes.

While it would be nice to think that each of these paths leads directly to the top of the mountain, the truth is that not all do.  Each promises to do so, but some meander in the backwoods or foothills forever or take you to false summits with views that are indeed lovely, but which are not quite what you were looking for.   This is why using the well-worn path that has been used by others over the ages; a path that takes you right to the top is such a common choice.

You would think that these paths; these well-worn, tried and true paths would be the logical choice when attempting to reach the summit.  After all, those who went before you succeeded by following this path.  It makes a certain kind of sense to follow in their footsteps, unless of course your heart is telling you differently.

You see, following in the footsteps of others; following every dip and turn in the path that they took might not be for everyone.  A particular path may wander through the foothills for a good while before tackling the mountain face itself.  At the time that the path was created this may have been necessary.  Perhaps the one striking out was not adept at mountain climbing and needed to acclimate themselves to the journey before undertaking a more strenuous segment of the trip.

Perhaps it takes certain twists and turns going around certain obstacles that have worn away over time, but those who are the keepers of the path insist that you not deviate from the path because even if the obstacle no longer exists because that is where the path leads.  Sometimes the path itself does not make any sort of sense.  Yes it gets you there eventually, but it backtracks and loops about unnecessarily.

What the people who follow these paths – and the keepers of these paths – tend to forget is that the path was once new.  The people who created that path did the best they could with the information they had.  They were plotting a course through uncharted territory because they saw something about the lay of the land; a river, a ridge, a chimney up the mountain face that promised a way to get to the summit faster, or more directly, or in a way no one had before.  What they fail to realize is that the people who first trod this path were trailblazers themselves; trailblazers creating a personal path that just happened to gain a following.  There are two young men whose stories tell us just how it happened.

There were once two young men who went looking for their own personal truths and inadvertently changed the world.  Both were raised in rich and ancient spiritual traditions; traditions where everyone had their place and purpose; where everything that one did was because it is the way that things had always been done and was the way that tradition said it was supposed to be.

Both of these young men balked at accepting the path with which they were presented in spite of the fact that to break with the traditions meant being ostracized from the society in which they had been brought up.  One became the man we know of as Buddha.  The other the man we know of as Christ.  Their discoveries and teachings would one day go on to touch the lives of millions.

Both of these young men’s deviation from their own traditions caused the creation of a new path; one that was right for them and which proved to be right for many others.  Unfortunately, the more people who trod these (and other) paths, the more they couldn’t imagine ever wanting to tread another path or (heaven forbid) strike out on their own, forgetting that they have the audacity of these young men in doing just that to thank for the tradition that they now adhere to.

And for some people, following in the footsteps of tradition is exactly what they need and provides them with a means of achieving their goal, and that is all fine and good and is to be commended.  But for others, the idea of following in a set path makes no sense when they can clearly see the summit ahead of them and are willing to do what it takes to make it their by their own means, especially if their heart is encouraging to do so.

Perhaps there is a reason that they feel the need to do this on their own.  Perhaps there is something they are supposed to see, or do, that they could not see or do if they stayed on the path.  Perhaps there is someone on another path that they are meant to interact with and will be guided to.

And maybe these trailblazers will start out on a well-worn path and then, when they come to a promising looking section, will take off on their own.  Perhaps they will parallel one or more of the deeper worn paths for a time.  Perhaps as they head off on their own they will encounter other paths which they will follow for a time (or for as long as they are headed in the direction they want to go).

No.  This does not mean that they will necessarily reach the summit, though the possibility is there.  Of course those who follow the well-worn traditions may not reach the summit either.  They may fall by the wayside, encounter a village on the mountain where they choose to live indefinitely, or give up and go home in defeat.

What it does mean is that they have a goal; a purpose that others might not be able to comprehend.  But don’t condemn them.  They want to reach the top more than anything; as much as those who are using the tried and true methods.  It’s just that in  listening to their heart they know that a specific path is not necessarily the right one for them.  They may not understand why, but that doesn’t make it wrong.  And so it is that they strike out on their own and create their own personal path to enlightenment.  Perhaps they will  flounder along the way.  Perhaps it will become only one of the many dim paths that crisscross the mountain’s face.  Or perhaps, a thousand years from now, it too will be a well-worn path in the mountainside.  But they were all new once upon a time, and someone had to be the first one to walk in a new way.

 

©Stephanie S. Henry 2012

The Abyss

On By Just StephIn Metaphysical Mussings2 Comments

You! Yes you, there, the one standing on the edge of the abyss!

No, don’t look over your shoulder, I’m not standing behind you. How could I be? There’s a sheer cliff face behind you.

No, it doesn’t matter where I am – would you knock it off? It doesn’t matter who I am, it really doesn’t. I just need you to be quiet for a minute and listen to me.

Why? Did you actually ask me why? Oh please! You’re the one standing on the edge of an abyss, a sheer cliff at your back, and nothing but bottomless emptiness in front of you, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, not a clue as to what to do next and you’re asking a disembodied voice that’s trying to help you as to why you should listen to it?

You know what I should do? I should just leave, right now. Leave you to your contemplations of the horrors that may or may not lie in wait for you should you jump or fall or be pushed off your precarious perch, how dreadfully dangerous the winds that are buffeting you are and how you’re afraid that you may loose your grip accidentally, or how hopeless your situation is since the cliff face is sheer, offering no toe-holds to climb back up, and you haven’t been able to get the attention of anyone at the top of the cliff who could help you.

But I’m not going to leave, even though it aggravates me to see you trembling there in indecision when it is perfectly clear what’s going to happen. But I forget, you are so wrapped up in clinging to your ledge that you’re not taking time to see the big picture. I understand how being on a ledge as you are would be distracting. But what I can’t understand is why it is you actually seem to be enjoying your predicament.

Well, you certainly talk about it enough, how scared you are, how nervous you are about what comes next, all the things that influenced you to this point, how uncomfortable you are, how much your cuts and scrapes hurt, how you managed to end up here….ah, that one is the worst! I mean, look at you! It’s obvious how you got here. You left your normal, everyday life, picked up your backpack of hopes and dreams and struck off up the mountain of possibilities and followed your spiritual path until it led you here.

Yes, you heard me right. The path you chose to follow led you here. You and no one else, is responsible for where you’re standing right now. I don’t care how many maps you consulted. I don’t care how many other people you asked for directions, or how many people you followed or how many detours you took to get here. And don’t moan and groan about how it must be the path’s fault that you are in this precarious position. You are the one who was walking it. You’re the one who took that final step – the step that sent you over the edge.

You still remember it, don’t you, the moment when the path crumbled in front of you and you felt yourself falling over the edge of the cliff. But then you caught yourself, just barely caught yourself, a bare toe-hold here on this last ledge of sanity.

And so, here you stand, your back pressed against solid rock, the reality of what you’ve experienced so far, what you’ve encountered, as unarguably real as the stone beneath your fingers. In front of you the abyss awaits, its unknown depths holding unknown joys – or horrors, and the winds of change and circumstance keep threatening to loosen your hold on this last shred of reality. What’s worse, your hands are starting to sweat with nervousness (or is it excitement?) and you find your grip slipping by centimeters.

I bet you’d give anything for a rope right now, wouldn’t you?

And who knows, maybe if you wait long enough you’ll be able to get someone’s attention and they’ll send down a rope to help you up. Of course you might be waiting for a very long time.

And even if they did, where would you be? All the paths lead to this abyss – there’s no way to go further up without crossing it. You are to be commended actually, for having made it this far. So many people only follow the path until they find a comfortable place and then leave it to take up permanent residence.

You could, provided you are offered that rope, go back up to the top of the cliff and retrace your steps back down the mountain, or at least far enough down it so that you feel safe; undoing all the work of months, or years of searching. Or you could stay there at the top of the cliff, within view of the abyss. You could stay there and invent a nice reality for yourself, something that sounds probable, about how this is really the top of the mountain, or at least as far as we can expect to go in this lifetime.

Of course you could choose to remain where you are, teetering on the edge of sanity, worrying yourself to death about what is going to happen when the inevitable happens and you loose your grip and go plummeting into the depths.

Or, you can jump.

You can let go of your desperate finger hold on reality and step off into the unknown, trusting that the universe knows what it is doing or it wouldn’t have brought you here.

I guess what it all boils down to is one question:

How badly do you want it?

How badly do you want to know what lies at the summit?

How badly do you want to see the view from the top?

How badly do you want to remain trembling here on the brink, clinging to your last shreds of sanity and wondering what comes next?

So, you can wait for help.

Wait to fall.

Or jump.