What I have and am learning through my journey of recovery from chronic illness, into wholeness and authenticity.
Author: mlfc15
Mother of 5, daughter of God. I love music, dancing, improv, laughing, living, wilderness, and people in general. Soft things and sleep are pretty magical.
I had a vision recently of what exists at the core of every single person. The spirit hovering over waters, and in particular, the space between.
A reverse whirlpool if you will, where every thing original to that individual emerges into their conscious awareness.
The key to the creative life, a crafted life, a life lived on purpose, is to espouse oneself to the nothingless and allow. To keep thought, fear, egoic static and interference from staining the perfect expression of Source that wants to flow through you.
The beautiful part is our ability to dance with it. We are not merely vessels – in some mysterious way we leave our fingerprint on God as He is born through us. There is a true dance, a beautiful, painful, estatic, and at times perfectly harmonious play that can unfold at the heart of each of us as we strain to give birth to ourselves.
And this space of nothing is the only oasis in the authentic life. Space is necessary from all things, created and uncreated, and only in the void can true rest be found.
The only way we can forge a fruitful relationship with any aspect of life is to put as much distance as possible between us at that aspect, not out of fear and avoidance, but by recognizing that more than anything, we are the nothing. The more time we abide in spacious rest, the clearer our view becomes of ourselves, the easier it becomes to release the parts and patterns that would choke out all we are striving to cultivate.
A deeply luscious clarity crystallizes in our relationship to the world, and from there we receive the satisfaction we once chased before recognizing the exclusive substance of nothingness.
We discover a universe in each word, magic begins to follow us like a loyal and playful puppy, and ordinary begins to be replaced with a richly colored and endless stream of beauty beyond all longing. Aslan’s country.
The irony of it all is that this is what I learned from the last 6 weeks of bear fighting all the patterns that created an ebb and flow of suicidal ideation over ⅔ of my life.
Sitting on the curb at a corner near my house, blankly staring at each car rolling through, I realized that no one could ever give me anything I had not already given myself. My love affair with nothing fast became a marriage fusion.
I’ve lived my life in the invisible war zone of unconscious trauma, that felt more like a nuclear war zone for the last 4 years I made that trauma conscious by choosing to recover. I’ve spent literally every moment of that time fighting to the death to save my life. Invited into deeper and more profound ego deathes over time, exhausted beyond reason and having forgotten the taste of living, I began to question the purpose in going on.
On that curb I decided one last time that if I’m ready to die now, I might as well wait and see what I can make of my life until it ends naturally. Having journeyed mainly alone through this life (thanks trauma) I realized that if no one could help me, no one could get in my way either.
All of sudden, and it was just me and every galaxy in the universe and whatever I could fathom to invite through the birth portal of my heart.
And at long last, I have arrived at the beginning.
The Eye of the Needle 