Woke up this morning feeling enthusiastic about the day--what a concept! Traffic dented my good mood a little bit, as did some pesky, persistent memories, but mostly I enjoyed a) not having that constant knot of tension in my stomach (well, OK, a little bit, but less) and b) feeling like my sleep had actually refreshed. My theory is that when you go without sleep for so long, when you are finally able to get a good night's rest, you wake up feeling more tired than before; but that gradually you get retrained and the sleep deficit goes down.
And the learning process goes on. Reading and writing are helping to get a handle on the degree to which my need was dictating action and perception, rather than the voice of the soul. This morning, as I talked with Bahá'u'lláh, I found myself telling him I felt like we were getting deeper into uncharted territory, that the language of this stage of the journey is unfamiliar to me, and that given all the distractions along the way--work, memory, desire, daily obstacles--I really needed His help to go the distance.
This morning's reading, in "...Wolves", was about the tension within the individual between ego and soul. Estés talks about how the ego, that part of us that learns its way through the outer world, tends to dominate in our early years, and rightly so: we must learn the ropes. At some point, though, the needs of the soul become more important and, if we are lucky, we hear the soul's voice despite all the competing noise from society and from our own past. Often, she says, an event will occur that will call us home, remind us that we are more than a material self that seeks fulfillment of material needs; and when that event occurs, a new life can begin. The ego is attracted to the light of the soul, in oneself and, indeed, in others, and tries to grab on to it, as it always has done in its search for fulfillment, as if the light were a thing or a possession; but the challenge is not for the ego to "possess" the light of the soul. The challenge is to work out a relationship between self and soul, through which as integrated beings we are able to navigate the outer world, build relationships, pursue the creative impulses God has placed within each one of us, and do so with the guidance of the soul--of instinct, of intuition, of the finer sensitivities of the spirit.
It seemed, as I read, that there was some value here, some resonance within. A case could be made that I have learned the outside world fairly well--I can get to the other side of the planet with just a few phone calls, make all kinds of things happen--but through loss, discovery and loss again, have been made to enter this new passage of the soul. The dynamics of this passage are still obscure but comfort can be found in the assurance that it's never too late, that having begun and committed to the work, protection, guidance and strength will come. "Make a start," 'Abdu'l-Bahá said, "and all will come right." And Bahá'u'lláh writes, “A servant is drawn unto Me in prayer until I answer him; and when I have answered him, I become the ear wherewith he heareth....”
And dreams have returned, a voice that had been silent for almost a year. I usually don't know what they mean but wake up eager to see whether meaning will become clear during the day.
There was one last night, for instance, in which it seemed my spirit was reaching out to someone, someone who cried out in surprise; I wonder who it might have been? The image of the dream was of descending to a great depth: the walls of this space rushed past me and they looked like a dark, billowing satiny curtain whose folds were lit from below; and at the bottom, a rectangular space whose borders were picked out in light, as if the light were behind and below this gleaming dark platform. As I reached the platform, a woman's voice said, loudly, "Ah!", and her cry echoed a moment through the space, then was gone. After a moment I woke up: 2:39 am on the clock.
And so the day begins.
Following your journey is such a privilege. Remember Rio abajo rio. And listen always for Canto hondo.
Posted by: Amy Eades | June 05, 2004 at 01:40 AM