My Chaos… It’s Actually Sorta Lovely.

This isn’t a very creative opening sentence but my goal today on the page, is to befriend myself and open my heart to all the chaos that is coursing through my veins. Is anybody else feeling extra nutzo today? This is such a bizarre chapter of my life. I want to scream. It feels self-indulgent to sit here writing about all my feelings and fluctuations… when I could be “making something of my life”. But my hope is that by letting myself just BE here, amidst the chaos and confusion, that a spontaneous alchemy will happen, and a diamond will naturally tumble forth from this imaginary weave of dynamic tension, like prismatic honey dew cascading from a fragile leaf in heaven’s own secret garden.

I feel angry. I think it is my soul trying to shake me awake, call me to ACTION. There are so many things I want to create in my life. But somehow, the days keep slipping by. Mostly all I have been doing is sadhana (spiritual practice), talking to my mom, talking to Ed, preparing healthy food, eating it, napping, more sadhana, more talking to Ed and my Ma… and then going to sleep. And now I’m here writing about it, and I want to cry and pull my hair out.

The spirituality here at Ananda feels pretty masculine. The whole line of gurus are men. They condone sitting still for like EVER. Listen, I am not knocking it… (like I did in a some blog posts a few years ago) I LOVE it here at Ananda. It is a sanctuary of sanity amidst a world of blind, forgetful children, flailing around in ignorance, barking up imaginary trees in pursuit of happiness that already exist within each of us, NOW. It’s a classic case of the Alchemist. Member? That magical little book by Paulo Cohello… The dude goes on this epic journey in search of treasure that was buried in the exact spot beneath which he slept at the beginning of the story…

But oh merciful Mary, my heart is THIRSTING for an integration of feminine expression in my spiritual life. I feel dried out. Must. Have. JUICE. This morning, I did my energization exercises, and then I stood frozen and tortured. I could not bring myself to do the same austere yoga poses I have been practicing day after day after day after… I haven’t danced in over two months. This was fine for a time… while I was dissolving over the summer, it was actually quite alright. And perhaps even necessary. But now the leaves are falling from the trees again, and blowing about in smooth, poetic frenzies, and I am once again becoming solid. And it’s a classic case of dance or BUST!

So incinerating in inexplicable internal flames, I put in my earbuds, and played an exquisite rendition of the gayatri mantra and began to move as my body and soul demanded. Caged in an empty, white-walled room, lit by a single candle, I danced to set myself free. It was clear that I was doing what I must, because the shackles began to loosen and slip from the silken surfaces of my soul. But then I looked to the altar. To the five men with serious faces who were witnessing my dance… And I felt misunderstood. I felt embarrassed, and maybe even ashamed for letting this essential part of me emerge and play. I cried as I danced. And I wondered if I was projecting all that judgement onto myself, or whether the gurus really didn’t approve. I’d like to think it was just the darkness of my own psyche rising to the surface for healing. Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was. Because rumor has it, there IS no “outside”; the whole world is a projection streaming from the divine play of light and shadow, born of my own consciousness. I know that’s debatable. But let’s not debate it right now. Because when it comes to beliefs, the question to ask is: are they serving and informing my life, such that I am elevated to new heights of excellence? I mean, that’s really all beliefs are GOOD for, right? Infinity is way too vast to be strangled by the “hard and fast”… But that said, we need some sort of map and compass to guide us to the Eternal Home beyond the self-indulgent, respective somewheres we insist on wandering about in…

Ok. I’m starting to love myself again. I was beginning to doubt. It’s just that lately I’ve been surfing one of my all too familiar, quasi-beloved waves of terror- that I’m gonna FAIL AT MY MISSION for this life. I came to INSPIRE. To learn and explore and share all of my profound discoveries with YOU. I came with so many gifts, and most of the time, I feel like I am squandering them as I chase my tail and think really deep thoughts. Goddess almighty, this makes me crazy!!!! And the stupidest part is that here I am, just wanting to cry about it!!!! When really, all I need to do is change the channel and get into action.

Okay. I’m gonna take a time-out from this self-critical loop through no-woman’s-land. Instead I’m gonna write about this mystical white owl who is hovering just beyond the visible edges of my consciousness. She must be immense, because with even the slightest motion of her wing thrusts, mighty majestic winds wish across the sky inside, arousing subterranean feelings of enchanted power. Come closer, beautiful creature!!! Let me climb onto your smooth, white feathered back. Carry me somewhere better. Carry me to the towering, golden, jewel-crusted gates of Grace, where I will sit and patiently do pranayama and sing flirtatious, devotional songs (see, I’m gonna use my time wisely!) until they splay open, and out rolls an iridescent carpet, fashioned from the wings of ascended angels, upon which I will tread soft and triumphant, back into the arms of a love so pure and pervading, I will melt into a sea of my own ecstatic tears and pour upon alla y’all who are still staggering about on planet earth like a gaggle of drunk turkeys on the first day of november.

This message has been brought to you by the simple pleasure of new fleece sweats, caressing hydrated, wistful skin.

Live,
A

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