One of the primordial sources of suffering is the feeling of non-acceptance of WHAT IS.
The feeling of rejecting what is happening, or what has happened.
We all have this part of ourselves that sits back in judgment over the events of our lives. We look back on some events and think,
“That was great.” “I’m glad that happened.”
With other things, the not so nice ones, that same part of ourselves reacts with rage and hurt, for ourselves or others:
“That should not have happened!” “This can’t be happening.” “This is wrong.”
During a recent call with my mindset coach, she led me through a meditation in which I listened as she said (among many other things),
“All of ‘this,’ all the things that have led up to this moment, happened…
And they are over…
I accept that all of this (i.e. the past),
happened.”
It was amazing to experience the inner resistance that flamed up in me as I listened, and different memories flooded through – even though I know that I cause myself suffering by not accepting WHAT IS.
I realized that in spite of my “knowing,” there is a tiny voice inside of me that still objects to some of the events in my life.
There is a little voice that says “NO!” to some of the things that have happened to all of us.
And I feel that on a totally visceral level.
I’ve come to think of that little voice as my tiny crusader. And I am glad she is in there, in me, and probably in you too, standing up for what we believe is right, and what we believe should, and should not, happen in this world.
But at the same time, it became clear to me how easy it is to feel split off from LIFE by objecting to what is.
Because WHAT IS, is life.
So I found a way to step back into warmth and kindness, which is a skill I learned from my dear friend Erin Rabke, and one that is central to my meditation practice, and to my 30 Days of Affirmation program.
I promised my tiny crusader that we would still work together, and even fight, if necessary, to stand up for what we believe in. That little voice matters.
But I also acknowledged that no matter how much we may have wished that some of the things we’ve all been through had never happened, they did happen.
They happen to all of us.
Collectively, and individually, we all share in the joys and ravages of LIFE.
I accept that everything that has happened, happened.
This doesn’t mean that I wanted all of those things to happen. It doesn’t mean I don’t grieve for the loss of loved ones. It doesn’t mean I’m not angry about the hurts. It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t have prevented some things from happening, if only I could.
It simply means that I choose to stand on the solid ground of WHAT IS.
From that ground, from that acceptance of LIFE, I can choose to move forward on my personal path with a sense of inner unity. Tiny crusader and all.
We have all experienced hurts, anger, betrayal, trauma, either personal or collective.
It seems like a miracle to me that we can go through so much.
Seeing your faces in my mind, I am in awe of the miracle of LIFE, of what each heart can hold, of the courage and dignity of my fellow human beings. We all have this capacity, this potential.
We share in the common experiences of LIFE, and the inner light that gets us through it is the same in all of us.
(By the way, that is the meaning of NAMASTE: the light in me recognizes and honors the light in you. It is the same, beautiful light.)
I am thinking today of a favorite poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Whether you think of “God” as that old fellow in the sky, or as Mother Nature, or simply as WHAT IS, I love the way this poem affirms LIFE.
In one of the lines, Hopkins writes, “And for all this…”
I think he means, for all that has happened, for the entire legacy of the past, for all we’ve been through, for all we’ve done and failed to do, “for all this,” he writes, “and for all this, nature is never spent.”
Nature is never spent. LIFE IS.
Today I accept that everything that has happened, happened. And I move forward from that strength, with humility, courage, and AWE.
“The Grandeur of God”
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs –
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
Namaste,
Erin