It is remarkable how quickly the feeling of "aha!" disappears. I spoke with a dear friend earlier, who lives a thousand miles away, and she asked "what's new in your life?" I replied, "toggling between a sense of awareness and awakeness and being in a rut. Then back again." This really reflects my pattern. Maybe its the human pattern. I see this back-and-forth in many people in the world around me and while it is comforting to know that I am not alone in navigating lightness and darkness, that comfort doesn't take away the exhaustion of it. In fact, that comfort might even give me permission to stay in the cycle and only strive enough to touch joy but not enough to live fully and consistently in joy. Ever elusive joy.
I suppose I know the solution and it is my rebellious nature or, more truthfully, my allegiance with the stories of my life that demand that I protect myself from simple acts of daily communion. How will I know myself if these stories change? I want to be happy but am I willing to do the practice that leads to happiness?
And when I do - it all makes sense. I feel whole, clear and aligned. I can connect with others, God/Source, the meaning of it all so easily. And when I don't engage in my daily practice of communion, I feel disjointed and cranky... like a plastic shopping bag adrift on a Sunday afternoon breeze.
Each time we make the effort to commune with Source, no matter how brief, it creates new neural pathways and offers momentary solace. Such willful connection is the key. We write a new story this way, even if it is only one word at a time. It is not about how long it takes to reach our bliss--it's all about consciously choosing to make the effort.
So, in moments like these, when I feel like all the light has drained out of me and I am left with only the belly button lint of my personality... the most important act of communion is with myself. To be still, non-judging. To give myself the space to be human, to be cranky, to be frustrated with traffic. These things do not degrade the soulful parts of ourselves. We do not lose our spirituality when we are more entrenched in the ego. Its just heavier and harder to lift up. Right now, in this moment of "meh" it's about practicing self-observation. Seeing with out demanding change. Witnessing with a compassionate heart. Knowing that this act of communion with self is the lesson for the day.
We often seek others to fulfill our need to be heard. This is the mistake. We need to listen to ourselves. Empathize with ourselves. Listen long enough for the chatter to move into melody and, eventually, transform into symphony. No one can fulfill our need to be heard if we cannot hear ourselves.
So. Tonight I listen inward with no agenda.