Folding In #46 Gifts and Wounds

finding the wise one who is trying to emerge

There are pieces in our hands that we cannot comprehend, small and large stones of suffering and mystery that run longer than each individual's life. As if we are made from an endless thread of everyone who has come and died. I have ghosts I haven't chosen. Fears I can’t rationalize, things that don’t feel like they belong to me, but are with and in me as if by osmosis. 

What you see and feel, I’ve learned, is our responsibility. What rubs and touches you will be yours at this time. No mistake, a glowing orb, passed on for centuries, like a rolling stone asking for our consciousness. What small or big offering can we make to chip away at this undulating energy moving through the world?

It is my intention that everything I experience, offer, and pass on to my friends and loved ones, and to strangers alike, will be a part of my heart. In every stream and sweet heart I recognize, I wish to leave as much of my heart behind as possible.Leaving my judgments behind and living lightly on this planet is paramount to me. I wish my love to polish the stones passed onto me. My suffering may not end with me, but I will soften it for the next person. 

If we have become a hospitable place, an open ear and heart, a willing participant in transformation, our hereditary suffering may become very apparent. In some ways, it possess a knowing we will do well with it. I’ve decided that because I am a deeply feeling person, very aware of subtle and inconspicuous currents of pain and joy, I too have tremendous capacity, and a noble cause in this lifetime. That I have been knighted, as I’m guessing you who read this are as well, with the most delightful calling: to whittle down the pain of this world.

To be clear, when in pain, my first reaction is NO! No, I don’t want this. No, I don't wish to heal from this. No, I don’t want to be grounded! No, I don’t intend to slow down or quiet down. I like this fever. Leave me alone. There is a very real, unbridled, and frenzied stream inside our consciousness that seeks to remain unrestrained and irresponsible. Negligent and careless. Our soul, our most realized self, competes with this surface dwelling self, and it is WORK to see, and balance the two. In fact they are partners in our evolution and the planet's healing. They serve as the doorway to one another, but you must learn to pass through the right one.

I see these two forces working in concert to transform each other. Our highest self, sprouts from the same ground as the nearly unbearable pain. Two offerings extended, one holding on to old and heavy patterns of thought and action, the other being a wise and loving energy that always remains grounded. Both are presented at once, as an offering. Whether it is pain that begets pain, or pain that breeds wisdom and love, the choice is yours. Our lives are always a choice of path, embodiment, sound, and effort. Suffering is inevitable, but what we do with it is up to us. 

I was reading in my journal of a time of profound suffering. The moment came when I made space for myself by traveling to Italy. I had no intention of this happening, but it did, as life often does, catch me by surprise. As the wounds opened, another way appeared. 

I cried in every church I visited. I'm not sure why, but standing under monuments and painted arches, I felt broken. I entered each holy doorway, heavy and full of stones. Under the elaborately painted domed ceilings of the cathedrals, I felt this weight in my body longing to let go into the arms of the star-filled ceilings above me. To let the round-faced angels staring at me remove tired and sore things. 

The human mind bears a lot of pain, but inside each of us, a liberated part wants to emerge. As humans, we intuitively know there is always another way. A church is essentially a container built for us to offload our burdens and move toward divinity. It is a place created to bridge the gap between suffering and the place we feel most estranged from, our joyful spirit.

It was in those ancient churches that I sensed another way emerging. Another Self asking to become part of my experience. I could almost see her standing to the right of me. Weathered, strong, and calm, hands clasped over her lap, a slight sway in her body that exudes stillness and peace. She wasn’t asking to take turns with me, she was just waiting, and will stay there until I tap her in finally. I'm not sure I've always seen her. She's mostly been a vague feeling living in my gut, though she is becoming increasingly visible these days. Someone full of peace and calm waits in the wings now, ready to scoop me up and offer me another life. 

Every day, I feel the presence of this wisdom growing stronger. Despite war and devastation, joy rises, as does strength, resilience, and resolve. As I have grown to recognize her presence in my life, I have brought her, piece by piece, into my mind and body. My lived experience. 

Fear of losing my child, doubt about my vocation, obsession with my health, and an intense desire to end the war, I look to her for guidance. Her wisdom is mostly wordless, her magic is in how she holds things. Her center of acceptance floods out of her, quelling and quieting noise and angst. Taking in what is, she bows softly, serenely, and beholds everything as if it were of tremendous significance and value. She witnesses life's events - violence, death, fear - with equal, unflinching compassion. Only love can withstand her encircling strength. She erodes every stone passed to her with love. 

Watching suffering pass from hand to hand, we see how it can weaken the barrier between us and our most magnificent human forms. It is a way to teach us how to take responsibility for the continuation or cessation of pain.Suffering brings the wise one into focus, offering another life to each of us. As we refine our presence, we emerge from our wounds victorious, kind, and compassionate. 

Close your eyes, and look with me at a place of discomfort. The nebulous, opaque cloud of your fears, anger, and hopelessness can be grouped together into one large boulder.

Beyond the fears of the world around us, there is an even more intense fear of encountering our own self.

this is why we avoid meeting ourselves in this way, because naturally when we meet the wild edge of our suffering, we also meet ourselves in a very vulnerable way.

Very few stand before this stone willingly.

Blessed be the brave heart beating in your chest, dear one.

There is something stubborn in the heart of each of us that needs to be loosened for the way to be found.

We go willingly, to know ourselves better, breath by breath. We must stretch and change in many ways, and suffer our greatest doubts. But we venture into the fire that burns to find the light that illuminates.

Through the eye of searing emotion, to the centre's refuge.

Breathe by breath.

We invite our wisest embodiment to take residence in our being the more we learn to sacrifice our defences and become vulnerable, we find out what the heart already knows.

We wake up and take our rightful place in the divine conversation.

We find in us the desire to heal.

We find saddled with our pain, courage and wisdom.

The delight of being alive on this earth.

We realize when we come to sit with our boulder in this way, we are actually rolling the stones in our palms, that the edges are being worn smooth.

We recognize that our loving awareness is what sets the gears in motion.

We look down to see our hands as the hands of the divine.

We recognize we have become the healing power of our wise heart.

We have known wisdom longer than pain. Sometimes we need reminders, signs to direct our perception, so fears don’t keep us too long in one place. Yes, there is much pain, and confusion rubbing against you, as is me. However, if you look closely enough at that pain, you will see glimmering out from the darkest pool, an almost joyful companion making themselves known. Growth often feels like impossible heartbreak, followed by catharsis. A rupture and then a flower. A spasm, then immense wisdom capable of holding everything with encircling love and strength. 

I invite you to take special care these coming weeks, especially during this holiday season. To notice when our anger, fear or suffering is a trigger, and pause to see if you can catch a glimpse of the wise one in the wings. Pause our reaction to see if there is something in us that needs to grow, and choose that instead of the continuation of pain and suffering. We can use this time to wake up and take our rightful place in this divine conversation. To venture into the fire that burns, to find the light that illuminates.

I love you.

Sarah