Mystic Cookie

As I continue to explore the mystic idea of experiences defining a relationship with the Divine, I find myself pondering junctures of resistance. As human beings we are stubborn by nature, even when this trait creates barriers to progress on the spiritual path. In instances when the correct way forward is clear, we may choose the path of least resistance rather than the path that will ultimately lead to our salvation and a deep and personal relationship with the Divine. It is a choice so often made that it deserves some reflection.

Why do we make life so hard on our own accord? If I had the answer to this age old question, I would be well beyond the place in which I find myself.  You see, I am as guilty of this as the next, always stubborn in the face of pivotal life moments. I sometimes refuse to look in the mirror and see that the person I am is not the person that I aspire to be. That would be too raw of a revelation and one that I am not always prepared to accept. To face oneself in moments of disappointing behavior is to face one’s most intimate self. The dark night of the soul draws out the shadow side that all of us possess. It is a humbling and painful process of self-awareness and reflection.

“Faith is the door to the full inner life of the Church, a life which includes not only access to an authoritative teaching but above all to a deep personal experience which is at once unique and yet shared by the whole Body of Christ, in the Spirit of Christ.”

-Thomas Merton

Most fascinating is the reality that we often go back for more, living in the shadow and rejecting the light. We resist the light with a knowing that to travel there would be uncomfortable. Again, this is human nature.  Why travel the more difficult road when one that appears less treacherous is right before us?  A response to this is that what we choose to resist, persists.  The shadows do not go back to the darkness without some very deliberate work. We resist this path for many reasons. Fear, sadness, anger are all emotions that cause hesitation and waves of indecisiveness. Some can sit in this limbo for long periods of time, effectively making the decision not to move towards the light simply by not making a choice. I am a firm believer that not taking a stand or making a decision is in fact a decision to remain unmoving whatever the circumstance. Many may not see this as such. Excuses will pepper a person’s speech caught in limbo.  “No one is doing that!”, “I have no choice, the world is against me!”, or “So and so made me do this, I had no choice!” This is denial at its worst.

How do we get beyond limbo if we find ourselves stuck? Surrender to the process. Surrender does not mean giving up or allowing life to work against us.  In my view, surrender is to let go of resistance to the journey and to allow oneself to fully experience both light and darkness.  It is through these valuable experiences that we can truly let go of resistance and say goodbye to uncertainty. We begin to expect the unexpected and learn how to navigate these difficult moments with grace, humor and acceptance rather than rejecting them completely.

 

“Spiritual growth is the gradual, I would say, transition from a God of tradition to a God of experience.”

-Neville Goddard

Life is difficult, that much is true.  No amount of preparation will protect us from the collateral damage that we all suffer simply by living fully. Resistance is futile.  When learning how to float in the water as a child the instructors would repeat that the swimmer need relax and not fight the water.  We are all striving for that state of floating as we go through life’s ups and downs.  Should you resist this, troubles will persist and as the metaphor goes, you will sink slowly back into the deeps of the water.

It makes no difference what challenges one is faced with. Finances, health, family, spiritual, all require movement to get beyond. There is no measure of one difficulty being more treacherous than another.  For each person the experience is personal and the hardship is very real. No comparison of troubles is useful; it is a waste of time and energy.  Know that whatever you encounter on the spectrum, all come with a possibility for growth.  If you find that you continue to make the same choices and continue to have persistent challenges, consider making a different choice and allowing rather than resisting. This is the only way to achieve a different result.  It is our choice to either move toward the path of surrender or to resist and stall progress. It is always only in our hands as individuals.

 

One thing that becomes more present as I enter this new chapter in my life is sitting in the unknown and letting go of the anxiety that exists in that space. For so many years it was important that I had a passing understanding of expectations and experiences before trying something new or choosing a different path. While this was a conservative and safe approach to life, it was not the best choice for me.

One example of choosing a known over an unknown is the amount of time I spent in a bad marriage. It was obvious from the start that things were askew and even more glaring after my ex-husband made some questionable choices that affected my entire family. So why did I stay for twenty-two years? I have analyzed this many times hoping upon hope that with some thought I will not repeat this mistake moving forward. The only thing I continue to come up with is that I was paralyzed by the unknown…also known as fear. All I had to do was move, yet I was paralyzed. My insistence in staying in that horrible relationship was a choice by default. I have often been reminded by spiritual teachers that not making a decision is in effect making a choice for the status quo. That hurts. It can only mean that I choose to stay in the relationship even when all signs pointed to needing to leave. Over time the shame of culpability has faded and I have taken a gentler approach. I understand that I must have not been ready to move and needed to learn something in order to extricate myself. It still has a sting to it when I reflect, but we are all human and as such imperfect in every way.

Learning to look at the unknown as an opportunity took time, courage and growth. I write this post sitting at a hotel after attending a leadership conference for librarians. I would never had considered myself a leader during my marriage and deferred to my ex-husband in most cases. His constant need to be right instead of kind was a difficult mountain to surpass. As such, I often choose to conserve energy and not engage in any communication when he would rant. I have recently begun to find my voice and it has been liberating.

“Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost.”-Kahlil Gibran

 

Now I am faced with many “doors” as William Blake suggests and am acutely aware that much of what lies before me is unknown. The familiar discomfort of this situation lingers, but this time I am not letting it stop me from choosing the door of the unknown.  This blog represents one of the unknowns. I have always loved to write but am a harsh critic of myself, becoming a closet writer for many years. To make matters worse, I hold different spiritual views than my family. Simply by putting my thoughts out there, I have opened myself up to discord with those that I love.  But as Anais Nin so eloquently wrote, “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”. The constriction of remaining in the known has simply become too painful for me.  It is as if I no longer have the ability to live in that space, I must choose the door of the unknown to remain authentic to myself.

Will there be pain moving forward? Most certainly. Will there be disappointment? Absolutely. But there will also be wonderful opportunities to stretch my wings along with beautiful and loving moments. Such is the path of unknown. Mysticism is by definition the space in which all is not understood along with many questions.  Mystics learn by personal experience with the Divine. There is no better way to allow for these experiences then by taking the chance to explore all of life in its many shapes and forms.  I look forward to what is to come with eager anticipation and yes a bit of fear.  Yet, I still choose to move. Today and everyday forward.

 

Something of interest for me is identity, culture and finding a “tribe”.  By tribe, I am referring to a core group of people that are relatable and who view the world in the same way as I do, a tall order to be sure. In high school the tribes were as one would expect: cheerleaders, jocks, nerds, misfits etc. I can say with confidence that I did not fit in any one group.  I had friends in all of them and didn’t feel ownership over any collection of ideas or identity. It was a bit lonely in that way.  My tribe at that time was most definitely the dance studio friends that I had. Interestingly, we came from all different groups in our schools, but came together over our absolute passion for dance. As a Midwestern girl who had relocated to Florida my freshman year, this was very important to me. Floridians were so different from Midwesterners.  I was teased for my easy going nature, lack of interest in makeup, and the way I said “pop” instead of “soda”.  I was an outdoors, relaxed girl thrown into the beach and bikini environment of Florida and I didn’t like it one bit.

After marriage and the birth of my first child, I quickly surmised that the awkwardness that I had felt in high school lingered. I appreciated the dance community, yet did not buy into “the difficult lives nurture great art” themes that they professed. I was a deep thinker and slightly introspective. This and my early motherhood isolated me further. I could not relate to the other young twentysomethings in college, I never had that experience and really didn’t crave it. I didn’t relate to the older mothers and felt completely inadequate for the job most of the time. The only place I felt peace was in a dance studio.  Dancing, while taught in classes and groups, is a very solitary practice.  It was me against the mirror and perfection was something that was desired but never attained. Dance required a strong internal dialogue and mental toughness without the benefit of a team to lift me up on hard days. I suppose my tribe became my family and a small number of older dance students. Even with this, I still recognized that I had a chameleon like way to move between different groups of people and rather liked the freedom. I still retain this skill today. I can adapt my language, mannerisms and delivery depending on who I am talking to. It is a way of relating to someone delivered in a manner in which they can receive, unthreatened.

The trouble with this practice is that I can become lost in translation. The “real” Lavinia is buried under layers of other tribe’s communication styles that I have tried on for size over the years. As my family grew, I also moved multiple times. This exposed me to many different tribes of people from the Southern Bells to the Mormon communities of Utah. All had pieces to offer me in my bag of tricks and I am thankful for that. Still, not one group spoke to be completely in a way in which I could take ownership of. I began to think this might be what everyone else experiences in life, maybe I was not alone. After speaking out to a few friends, I found that many did not experience this but rather felt a sense of inclusion with groups that they identified with. I felt alone.

Moving into my second career I encountered this same thing once again. After retiring from dance, I decided to become a librarian. When I gather with other librarians at conferences I am again acutely aware that I am quite different from the group. I am neither the stereotypical quiet, reserved librarian, or the flashy sexy librarian of so many people’s fantasies. Many are even shocked when they hear my profession. I take this as a compliment in that I have once again put on a chameleon skin and am navigating the world untethered to a group’s image.

 

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. Einstein

 

As I have passed middle age, I have begun to accept the fact that I have many tribes rather than just one. I am a complex women and embrace that fact that I am able to move between groups of people effortlessly. I have also accepted that I have a very small core group of people that really know me.  They consist of my family; I am not really a girlfriend type of girl. With them I do not have to put on other layers to communicate. They knew the child I was and the women I am. It is freeing in such a beautiful way. Being with people that have such a shared history and of whom I can pick up the phone and fall right into step, just as a tribe should be.  The fact that I do not have a large group of college friends, or families that I shared the experience of raising my children together with is not as important. I have learned to accept my uniqueness and embrace all of it. I am nearing a point in life in which I no longer care if another person thinks I “fit in” or if I find myself the only one at a gathering feeling as if I am on the outside. I enjoy the sociological perspective of this and like to observe the interactions that occur during the gathering.

I am not what one group defines me as. I am not even what I define myself as. I am many things. I am a daughter, sister. mother, dancer, writer, librarian, lover of nature, lover of the outdoors, introverted, fun to talk to one on one, funny and a little bit of a joker when you get to know me.  I am all of these things and more. If I cannot be put in a box, then I am doing something right on this journey.

 

In these times it appears that everyone has found a way to let their voice be heard, whether it be in person or in the virtual world. There is a platform for all personality types both outspoken and introverted. The danger in this is that some may disregard the fact that words have consequences. Once something has been spoken it cannot be taken back. Even in the anonymity of the online world, words carry weight and if delivered under the cloak of obscurity can cause real and lasting damage. How does one follow the mystical path, speaking their truth without causing pain in the process?

“Where the philosopher guesses and argues, the mystic lives and looks; and speaks, consequently, the disconcerting language of first-hand experience, not the neat dialectic of the schools.”

― Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness

 

When having discovered a truth that has taken much sacrifice and work to uncover, the need to shout it from the mountain tops is so great that it takes enormous self-control not to. I do not believe this comes from the ego, but rather, the now unbridled soul wants to be set free. I have many lessons still to learn, but I sometimes find it difficult not to interject my “opinion” when given the opportunity during open discussion. I believe this is my soul wanted so very much to assist the person I am communicating with, giving them some insight into what I have learned along the way. The problem is that many people do not want, or are not ready to hear the truth.  They are not speaking with me in an open dialogue but instead are vocalizing their thought process. In these moments, my practice becomes most important. I must resist the urge to comment and choose to love that person in the moment, even if what they are spewing is full of hate.

Many of you may have experienced this at work. Office politics never cease to amaze me. The depths of the human condition are on full display. The gossip and “talking down” of colleagues is often rampant. Instead of the anonymity of an online environment, there is the secrecy of the water cooler or lunch room. It can be quite toxic and treacherous territory for a student of mysticism. Often the person speaking their truth, loudly and aggressively, has some unfinished business. Maybe they were constantly criticized as a child and now choose to debate every point with anyone who will take the bait. Maybe they were labeled “slow” or “not intelligent” by a loved one and this label has stuck to their psyche, a thorn they have not yet figured out how to remove. The possibilities are endless but the correct response is not. In moments when someone is trying to speak their truth with a poison tongue, I try to redirect the conversation by softening the dialog. I will often find a topic that speaks more directly to the authentic person in front of me. Maybe they like to garden, or bake or have a large loving family, each person has a true self that they may be hiding at work. This tactic is usually enough to stop the tide of vitriol and bring back some balance.

 

For lack of attention a thousand forms of loveliness elude us every day.

Evelyn Underhill

 

I am not immune to this as no one is.  If I find myself in a conversation in which I am thinking to much about my response rather than listening, I take a breath and sit quietly for a few moments. Is what I have to say kind? Is it necessary? Am I just dumping my personal truths on someone else that is not in a position to receive?  Of course I fall short time and time again, but it is in the constant return to pray and love that I hope to do better the next time.

 

Every minute you are thinking of evil, you might have been thinking of good instead. Refuse to pander to a morbid interest in your own misdeeds. Pick yourself up, be sorry, shake yourself, and go on again.

Evelyn Underhill

 

Each time I speak, I am making a choice to use words in a manner that is conducive to love rather than hate. Even if I am compelled to speak my truth, it must be in a loving and inclusive way. After all, this life is so very short, that as Evelyn Underhill so eloquently puts, gossiping and speaking poorly of others is a complete waste of time. I have taken to walking away from situations in which people cannot yet let go of their opinions and beliefs long enough to simply listen to another. When my time comes to leave this world I want to have used every available moment to learn new truths. If I am frozen in a conversation that is constantly on repeat, I am not helping the participant or myself in the slightest.

Sometimes the lesson may just be to sit quietly and allow the other to speak, completely draining themselves of the hurtful and angry energy. These prove to be the most difficult for me and I suspect very important for my spiritual growth. As I slowly become more confident and tentatively step into the role of teacher, I will most probably continue to be tested and challenged with my words. It is a big responsibility that I am grateful for the opportunity to master.

 

So much of life is in the balance of competing ideas. There is a yin and yang that exists in everything and when the balance is off it creates barriers that are difficult to get past. This is demonstrated in the inability to find the perfect job, financial stability or a life partner. It may feel as if you are standing still rather than progressing and frustration builds. The usual response to this is to become even more dedicated to the cause, push harder, work longer and prove that you desire it more than anyone else. Can you relate to this scenario?

I am more than sure that you can, and in many of these instances the end result probably fell far short of what you had hoped and dreamed for.  Sometimes, no amount of persistence, work or prayer can yield a desired outcome. It can be absolutely devastating, quickly followed by a stream of negative self-examination. “Did I do something wrong?” or “Why do others seem to have an easy time with this and I am stuck?”

In all of the ups and downs I have had in my lifetime, the one thing that I am absolutely sure of is that life is unpredictable and no amount of planning can offer protection from the inevitable challenges that will come along.

The human response to challenging times is to buckle down and hold tight. Be stronger, more dedicated and work harder. Is this really the way to discover what is holding us back? In a holding pattern our physical, emotional and spiritual self is not open to new ideas and directions, there is no flow. We are closed off to the world and in survival mode, hunkering down and willing to hold tight for as long as it takes hoping this too shall pass.

The mystic Lao Tzu said it best with,  “To hold, you must first open your hand. Let go” Could it really be that simple? I like to believe so. When every thing in you is telling you to hold on, the answer can be found in the letting go, an absolute surrender to the unknown. Not only is this counterintuitive, but scary. Letting go of the outcome requires a complete trust in something greater than oneself. As uncomfortable and painful as they can be illness, loss and heartbreak are all valuable experiences for growth. Some may find themselves unable to make a choice, constantly weighing the pros and cons in a futile attempt to control the outcome. Forcing a life plan will never result in the balance you are seeking, just more frustration and heartache. The ultimate outcome will be exactly what a soul requires to learn and move forward. It is easy to trust when things are going well, but finding the wisdom to trust when things are difficult requires much more strength in character.

All that being said, I have learned the most about myself in these moments. The hard times have forced me to sit with my shadow and face all of the things about myself that I try so desperately to hide from others. It is a sobering journey. Without looking deeply at the shadow, it is impossible to identify the experiences that have ushered in fear and holding. Many from lifelong patterns established at very young ages. Half the battle is in the knowing. We first must understand why we are doing what we are doing.  

“Knowledge is learning something every day.

Wisdom is letting go of something every day.”

~ Zen Proverb

 

The next step is in finding the wisdom to let go, releasing the need to control the outcome. This is the tough one. You may understand intuitively what you are doing is not helpful and will not improve your situation, yet continue to repeat the same patterns. Not a fun place to be.

I have taken to beginning each day with a prayer of my own design that includes some version of asking for divine guidance and strength, to surrender and let go of what I do not need to carry. I give up to God all that troubles me, and trust completely by letting go of fear and worry.  I have to repeat this during the day when faced with difficult decisions and I find it comforting.

Try this in your next moment of indecision. Surrender the outcome and move ahead without fear. Include this in your life practice and trust that you are loved and guided. Let go.  

 

 

For years, copying other people, I tried to know myself.

From within, I couldn’t decide what to do.

Unable to see, I heard my name being called.

Then I walked outside.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

Where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

-Rumi

 

The Sufi poet Rumi often wrote in lyrical words about the musings of the spirit, a true mystic of his time.  In this piece, he implores the reader not to go back to sleep. Not the physical state of sleep but rather the spiritual condition of sleep. The answers we seek are often right here in the area between the other and the now.  This is the doorsill that Rumi speaks of. We so often choose to ignore what we know to be true instead, pressing on in our stubborn ignorance. Many times this manifests itself in moments of indecision or of choices that steer our life in a direction away from our purpose. I like to call these moment’s spiritual axis points on the grid of life. Only upon reflection can one look back and see that the decisions have taken them down a path that was extremely difficult. Spiritual axis points exist in everyone’s life. We are always drawn to the light but are given free choice. This provides the soul with fertile ground for learning opportunities.

I have been on a long journey of awakening myself.  I recall one of my own spiritual axis points that steered me on a path that would continue for two decades of my life. I was living in North Carolina as a young mother of two beautiful children.  Married at nineteen after becoming pregnant, I was thrust into a relationship that would represent a long period of unrest for me. I had not learned yet how to find my voice and deferred to my husband on most things. A troubled and intense man, I often fell into the role of a stabilizing force to balance his intensity.

A demonstration of this would be the time in which he made the quick and independent decision to move out West, reconnecting with some former teachers in a bid to gain momentum in his career. This was a cross-country move away from the support network I had built and my family who lived in Florida. Moving to North Carolina had taken me further away from my home base, my family. I didn’t want to believe it then, but this new move was a way to control my voice, my growing independence as a woman.

On our last evening in town, it was decided that we should stop by a student’s home and say goodbye. This was a surprise as he tended to move along with little warning, in an effort to leave behind the strained relationships he had fostered. That evening was very dark and the family happened to live on a quiet country road flanked on both sides by dense cornfields. After our visit, tired, we headed out on the road on the way home to prepare for our trip the following day. Driving through the cornfield in the dark was eerie and the silence was deafening.  Suddenly, in the pool of our headlights something large appeared on the road. My husband slammed on the brakes and sat frozen in the middle of the road in complete shock.  Directly in front of us was an owl as tall as the headlights of our car. It sat in the middle of the road on the yellow lines with intently focused eyes. I cannot explain the feeling of that moment. The owl looked at us as if to say, “This road should not be traveled”. It was clearly not afraid of us and sat with no intention of moving. My husband decided to carefully drive around the owl and as we did the owl turned its head and looked right at me through the passenger side window. I knew this animal was looking at me, through me and saw what was in my soul. It was a heavy omen that I tried desperately to ignore.

More importantly, my husband’s father had assigned all of his children spirit animals in honor of their Indian heritage. His spirit animal happened to be the owl. The message could not have been more direct. STOP, this road leads only to pain and sadness! Unbeknownst to me, my husband had already begun an inappropriate relationship with one of our ballet students who would be making the trip out West with us to audition for ballet programs in Utah. In my ignorant world, I was not equipped to see this as it was. I simply saw another instance of my family helping out yet another young dancer by taking them in, something we did quite often. I was immersed in my own reality, raising children, in a difficult relationship along with my general unease with life to see the truth.

Ignoring the message and against my better judgment, we headed out the next day with the young women in question and began the journey that would culminate many years later in tragedy and a true dark period in my life. Looking back, I am baffled by my unwillingness to see things as they were. I sensed there was something going on with the young women and my husband, but I choose the path of ignorance. This spiritual axis point went unheeded and the result could have been predicted by anyone as witness.

Why do we do this? When faced with important decisions in our life, we become adverse to the process. We choose by not choosing, we speak by not speaking.  As a mother, I have told my children that the right path is usually the most difficult and I have found this to be true. Even with this, they still choose the easy way and have difficult experiences to show for it. As one that has always found the veil between this world and the next to be thin, even I choose to turn away from the truth. As Rumi said so eloquently, I went back to sleep. Rather than listening to my truth on the secrets of the morning breeze, I stepped back into the room fearful of what was beyond.  

Being truly awake is a difficult journey. The awakening of a soul requires many life lessons and contemplation. For me, these lessons have been long and uncomfortable, but I would not be who I am today having not experienced them. I try each day to stay awake to the process, not numbing myself to my true voice and intuition. I speak these truths more often and don’t worry so much about what others think. I have stepped across the doorsill into an awakening of the spirit. If stepping across the doorsill is too much for you at the moment, listen for the whispered truths on the morning breeze and maybe something will call to you, prompting you to step forward and claim yourself completely.

 

“Deep listening is the kind of listening that can help relieve the suffering of another person. You can call it compassionate listening. You listen with only one purpose: to help him or her to empty his heart.” Thich Nhat Hanh

 

I have always been an observer of others.  Some see this as an introverted quality. I believe it shows a fascination with human nature.  The many different personalities in this world have intrigued me for as long as I can remember.   People are interesting and what a better way to study them than as a silent observer. Outside appearances may paint me as a classic wallflower. Quite the contrary, I have a constant stream of dialogue going on in my head and it can be colorful. Let others think what they will, my fascination with human nature continues.

Through the years of observation, I have noticed a common thread. As a naturally quiet person, others choose to “talk” to me quite often.  When I say “talk”, I do not mean a give and take conversation, but a listening session for airing frustrations and pondering life consequences.  I have a knack for listening without offering a constant stream of advice, and have found that most people are not looking for advice. They simply want to be heard.

This energy exchange has become somewhat of a challenge for me. During more emotionally charged days, I often come home exhausted just from listening all day to others problems. I am convinced that people are drawn to me in this way because of my energy, and sense that I can be a calm and reassuring figure for them. Some take advantage of this by dumping heavy emotions on me constantly, a classic yin-yang exchange. I take in their heavy energy and they leave energized by my lighter energy.  I am glad that I am able to act in this capacity for people when needed and understand that I received a gift of practiced patience from the interaction. Each time I flex these muscles, I get better at it. Showing patience when another is emotionally charged is one road on the path to greater empathy. It requires that I step out of myself and view the conversation from the others point of view. One can never have enough empathy and continuous work on this valuable life skill is time well spent.

As a child I felt everything and I mean everything. If someone was in pain I cried with them. If someone was sad, I felt terrible for them, and if someone was exuberant I felt their joy. This explains why my best friend was an introvert, like me.  She didn’t drain me the way others did. We enjoyed each other’s company and I always left feeling balanced.  Thankfully, my mom was keen on this and taught me from a young age to pray and seek divine guidance when overwhelmed. She didn’t use the word energy, but I knew what she meant.  She talked about a white light of protection and guardian angels, which provided great comfort for me.  I was a fearful child and even with all of these tools, I still felt drained and reflective most of the time.  To further protect myself, I built walls. From the outside this probably looked more like a stoic resolve. My face looked concentrated and firm when really I am just putting up my “shield” to protect my inner self. I have always been an emotional soul.  

Even with these shields up, people still stop by my office at work to “talk” quite often. Out of necessity, I have worked hard on learning ways to protect my energy and it has become a lifelong process to master. Protecting energy while deeply listening requires much attention and continues to act as a teacher through my life. I have implemented a few workplace tips that have helped me greatly and hope you will consider trying them as a part of your wellness routine.

• Moving everyday by going on a hike or to the gym each morning.  It clears my mind and my body. Stretching is vital for my MS but it also releases tension created by holding onto heavy energy. It feels great!

• Choose foods that nourish the cells rather than deplete them.  This generally is whole foods (one ingredient) and when possible organic

• Eating lunch outside if the weather permits.  I risk someone joining me, but if I bring a book I have less of a problem with this.

• Walking at lunch when the weather permits, putting in headphones and playing my favorite music. It is similar to a walking meditation.

• Envisioning a white light surrounding me when I feel attacked by heavy energy. Like a shield of light.

• Sending out light energy from my office in the hopes that it will help balance any negative thoughts coming my way.

• Upon returning home, washing my face, changing into loose clothing and drinking some tea to decompress. I do best when it is quiet during this time as a moment to let go of any energy I may have carried home with me.

• Taking an Epsom salt bath most nights with lavender oil. It releases my muscular tension and puts me in a state of deep relaxation.

• At least thirty minutes of reading or “down time” in my bedroom before trying to sleep.  It puts my body in shut down mode and helps me turn off my brain.  I often use this time to consciously let go of things that are lingering in my energy field. I absolutely cannot sleep if I am still mulling over what someone else has said to me during the day or reflecting on their emotions.

• Avoiding angry confrontation when at all possible. This is difficult in the workplace, so I cherish my home as my “safe” place. I do not approve of anger in any form in that space.

Finally, I no longer let people dump on me for long periods of time.  I have gotten much better at removing myself from these situations in a gentle way without being abrasive.

I encourage any other sensitive people to practice these things and identify any other solutions that work for you.  It is well worth the investment in your well-being and will allow for more full and rewarding interactions with others.

 

“We are living at a time of great transformation. The spiritual awakening that began in the 1960s needs to mature to its next level, which is a deepening into devotion to a mystical practice while remaining an effective force in the world. And by that I mean remaining in your skin, in your role as who you are. Mystics knew how to channel grace through prayer and they knew the power of that. They knew how to receive guidance through reflection and contemplation; they knew how to share the gift of illumination with each other. These are great gifts of life and profound grace that we are capable of providing for each other and the world. This is what it means to be a mystic without a monastery. You make a commitment to your own interior illumination and through that discover the “sacred” part of your “contract” and the true meaning of your highest potential.”

Caroline Myss

 

As a student of mysticism, I enjoy reading the writings of Teresa of Avila, Parker Palmer, St Francis of Assisi and Thomas Merton. Each individual is from very different times in history, but all had the benefit of mystical experiences. The commonality amongst all of these wonderful teachers was the necessity for transformative challenges. Each had to walk through the fire of uncertainty in order to have a true mystical experience, a step on the very personal road to spiritual discovery. Where they began was not at all where they ended up, and all that was in between represented the difficult work of life, and ultimately salvation.

 

Transformation is one of the only constants of this life. Nothing remains stagnant and everything must change. Transformation is also not for the faint of heart. It involves the examination of the soul in a deep and meaningful way. Each individual will approach this examination uniquely, no one path exists. The difficulty for mystics is that the cultural norm for spiritual transformation often involves very set rules of engagement, predetermined by centuries of religious practice. This can create a barrier to the completeness of the experience.

 

Transformation in my life has always represented a period of difficult change and a painful birthing of the new. Moments like the birth of my first child, living in an emotionally disconnected marriage, betrayal, divorce and illness. During those times I would never had believed that I was experiencing divine intervention and ultimately a transformation of the soul. I think back and feel a deep sadness. I feel the desire for what I did not have, the inability to find true and lasting love, the overwhelming responsibility of raising a child and finally the total rebellion of my body in illness. How could such difficult times be in any way transformative in nature?

 

Nowhere did any historical figure ever say that true change would be easy. Why then do we believe that we are marked for failure when challenges present themselves? Why do we not celebrate change as an opportunity to teach us?  Discomfort is not something that people cherish in this generation. Everything is about immediate gratification. The work of the soul is neither immediate nor gratifying.  It is messy, ugly work that leaves us spent and completely exhausted from the trying. Here enters the mystical experience, in the moments of despair when we are brought to our knees and become humbly aware of the Divine. In those moments, we are closer to finding our true self then in any other time that came before.

 

Teresa of Avila says it well with,  “For if the will has nothing to employ it and love has no present object with which to busy itself, the soul finds itself without either support or occupation, its solitude and aridity cause it great distress and its thoughts involve it in the severest conflict.” Conflict in this sense can be a dark period in one’s life. A calling to take some time to assimilate what is happening. Times of deep reflection are often followed by intense transformation. They are one in the same. The beauty of mysticism is to be comfortable with the uncomfortable, to sit calmly in the storm, to be misunderstood and to misunderstand. It is all an opportunity to grow in ways only a personal experience can allow. In retrospect, I am grateful for these life experiences. It is only with the wisdom that comes from transformation that the soul can stretch and become more authentic. I look forward to the next “great transformation” with a sense of anticipation and wonder for what will become known.