Dissolved And Broken Open

Looking at the blank page right now is daunting because I am changing so fast and attempting to put it into words seems like having a foot race with a shooting star. But writing is what I do, so I will take a stab at it. Speaking of a stab, Ed and I broke up again on wednesday. And this time it seemed all too real. It was the same thorn that has been lodged in our communion since before the beginning; my relationships with certain other men. Ugh. I don’t even feel like writing about it because it makes me feel shitty. And I didn’t pilgrimage all the way to Athena Graceland this evening to plunge any deeper into my already aching heart than necessary. All I’ll say, is that whenever this topic rises to the surface, we hit a painful and severe gridlock… so our tactic has been to leave it alone. But unfortunately, leaving it alone has not made it go away, as I wish it would, so we could get on with our exquisite loving, without further interruption.

Tension started to build a few days ago. When the topic first surfaced this time, I held on to some of my feelings, because I wanted to avoid the lethal strain of disconnect that this topic tends to cause. But that didn’t work. He knew there was more that I was not saying, and he said he always wanted our relationship to be a place where I felt free to speak my heart. So I did. And up went the Great Wall. Add to this disturbed mix that he was planning to come visit me on wednesday. Even though I had cried my guts out, and we were both considering that our Relationship (with a capital R) was over, still I demanded he come. Because I missed him so much. And because I wanted to share a few sips of the nutrient-dense sacredness I have been imbibing for six weeks straight. (Currently it is “Spiritual Renewal Week”, and there are talks and other special events every day. Guests are here from other Ananda colonies, and the atmosphere is especially festive.)

He came. At nine am, he walked into my Ma’s room, holding a vase of exquisite, boldly colored flowers. Our embrace was electric and laden with deep, soulful relief. We shared a perfect day together. He came to the morning talk, and afternoon sadhana (spiritual practice= energization, asana, prayer, chanting and meditation) and a Q&A session with the leaders of the community, Jyotish and Devi. Our hearts were joyous and joined as one beaming light.

It wasn’t till nine thirty pm that we opened the inevitable can of poisonous worms. As we talked in the moon-soaked, cricket pulsing darkness, I prayed and prayed and prayed to Yogananda (the Guru of this path) to be with us. I prayed to God, to speak through me. I prayed to Love to look through my eyes. And still, he drove away into the pitch black with a calloused heart, and fairly certain that we were done. As he started Magic Mike’s (his truck’s name) engine, I softly sang him Ananda’s goodbye song. It goes, “Go with love, may joyful blessings speed you safely on your way. May God’s light expand within you, may we be One in that light someday.” I followed it with a requisite OM, and then walked into the house in a state of shock and denial.

God, I didn’t mean to tell this story so linearly. Because meanwhile, splice the screen of reality in two, and on the other side, see me becoming so deeply tenderized and spiritually receptive. Every day I have been here, I have risen early, as I do, and begun my leisurely, devoted sadhana by six thirty am, at the latest. And every day, I practice before an altar laden with the faces of the guru lineage of Ananda. I gaze into Yogananda’s omniscient, compassionate eyes, and he speaks to me. Every day. Here come the tears. Yogananda came into my life early. I was about six. Over the years, sometimes I have felt very close to him, and other times, I have been the rebellious teenager, who is determined to do life MY WAY. Without some goody-two-shoe spiritual dictator telling me how I “should be”.

But since I have been at the Momshram this time, I realize that I am ready for him to tell me how I “should be”. Because I’d rather take direction from one who has attained Mastery (with a capital M), landed back in the heart of Truth, and realized oneness with ALL, than rely on my fickle, erratic, impulsive, delusive, ever-fluctuating small self to guide my life. Why would I insist on wandering the desert alone and thirsting, when there is a loving avitar with an impeccable map, standing before me and extending his hand? Yes, that was a rhetorical question. There are endless reasons why I would resist. But the bottom line is that I am so tired of being lost and alone in maya and I want to go Home. I want to seek. I want to find. I want to share.

I could sob right now. But instead, I will take a deep breath and courageously keep on writing.

When I was on the phone with Ed the other day (before his visit), having one of our most painful conversations, in walks my Ma’s housemate Uddhava, and out of the blue, without regard to my being on the phone, he says, “If you decide to take discipleship, I’ll come to your ceremony.” Damn it! I can’t hide in God’s house! The pull has been growing inside me… slowly… over the past six weeks. But I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, because committing to a Guru and a specific path feels similarly weighty as committing to a monogamous Relationship. Not an impulse by in the check-out line of life. Plus, I didn’t want my Ma to get all worked up about it and “pester” me to join her cult.

Not that I think it’s a cult. And not that my Ma pesters me… but you get the idea.

So you see, my world is coming undone at such a fundamental level. Yesterday, on the phone with Ed, I cried a profuse stream of grief as I marveled at the immense, unrelenting hole in my heart. Oh yeah, you should know that Ed still wants to be my friend forever, even if we cannot go on as Lovers, as Partners. I guess that’s “nice”. But I have never loved anyone to the depths that I have loved with him. This is why it’s so hard to let go. I’m actually astounded at how deeply moved I am by him. As the tears flow, I realize this is how I cried when Dan died last spring. Tears of grief. I guess I am navigating another death. I don’t know if Ed and I will make it to the other side still hand in hand.

All I know, is that I am truly ready to offer my life to God. I am ready to focus. Work hard. Serve. Surrender. I really feel like a dissolved caterpillar in her cocoon. I am not what I have been. But my becoming is not complete. Imaging myself taking flight on wings that have not yet materialized makes my guts leap into my ________. Traversing the spiritual path takes so much f-ing faith. OMG.

I told Ed today that my heart has never felt so broken… To that he replied, “Maybe it’s not broken, but just stretching wider than it has ever stretched.” Spoken by the man who knows my heart better than anyone ever has.

It’s all good. So good. But it is NOT easy.

God, thank you for your infinite love and blessings. Let me rest in perfect faith tonight.

Om. Peace. Amen.

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