Resting in the riddle of not knowing...

Often times, new clients want to follow up immediately after a healing to discuss and analyze every energy surge, intuition, and insight they have experienced during their session. While I appreciate the excitement around the discovery of a new perception, I will most usually recommend that the discussion is delayed for 48 hours or so.

Discussion, since it is an intellectual activity, often has the effect of diluting the power of spiritual healing. Sometimes, by talking about things we define and limit what is actually non-linear and limitless! I believe that it is necessary to be in the mystery for a while... and to respect that which has unfolded in the realm of Spirit and give the process a chance to manifest miracles in the physical without our mental and emotional preconceptions altering the natural courses.

Sometimes, when a client asks, "what was that?" I say I do not know.
"What?"
"I do not know."

I don't want to know everything! The practice of BEing in the mystery actually enhances our understanding of the complexity of reality if we allow ourselves that sacred space of not knowing. It is tricky business to admit we do not know where we are, or what we are, and even who we are in any given moment. Our modern lives usually demand immediate answers to every question and our tendency is to create logical systems with an efficient procedure to every handle and process every problem and concern. Many people steer clear of anything that is in the realm of the mysterious because it lies outside the false safety net of reason and logic.

I say, "Rest in the riddle of not knowing. Learn to be comfortable with your discomfort."

I think that to be spiritually centered is to have a holy respect for the great mysteries of life — the yearning in our souls to experience love in its many forms, the strange beauty of the natural world, the complexity of our inner selves, the unfathomable creativity of Source. The wisdom traditions challenge us to live within the grace of unknowing. To have experiences and not feel the need to lable and compartmentalize them into meaning.

Today, I will cherish the baffling, curious, hidden, and inscrutable dimensions of my existence and the world around me. I will live with paradoxes. I will give up the idea that I will finally "get it." I will be suspicious of the "ologies" that try to explain everything — from astrology to psychology to theology.

And I will not be afraid to admit, "I don't know."

May you be blessed!

photo credit: Northern Lights www.yukonretreat.com

Can't see the forest for the trees

Feeling lost?

Why is it that sometimes we just cannot see the bigger picture? Well, sometimes there is no clear path, and seemingly no hint of direction. And sometimes, we know that the well-worn path, plainly visible, will not lead us to where we ultimately want to be. That's when I look for the hidden path. I know that if I stop, and tune into my senses, I'll be able to perceive the way meant for me.

Usually, the hidden path is only revealed after a moment of disorientation, when I'm winded, and dizzied, and I feel the need to close my eyes for a moment and take in a deep breath. And I do. I wait for the calm remembering of myself before I open my eyes and see what the moment is truly offering me.

Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there,
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference !

-- Robert Frost (1874–1963)


We need not fear the moment of disorientation when it comes, for it is always a gift. If I do I may block out those energies that can lead me to the hidden path, and the best direction in which to continue my journey. I may be aware of the fact that I am lost, but if I am afraid to admit and face that, I will certainly refuse to see the solution and the way to get to where I am meant to be.

The hidden path is an intimate understanding of one's place and value in the world. And as much as there is only one hidden path, everyone's path is different.

The Frost poem asks me to me contemplate if am I going in the right direction. What is the road that has led me to this moment? When did I lose the track? What do I not want to see? How did I fail to see and understand the larger principles? How did I get so lost?

Well, probably because I agreed to follow the well-worn path knowing full well just a few steps into the adventure that it would not lead me to where I wanted to be. But that's OK, that's the learning curve. The dead end. The moment of disorientation. It's the perfect catalyst for blazing my own trail, following my heart, and honoring my place and value in the world. Getting lost is my eye-opener.

And there's the hidden path!

Image credit: Feliciano Imaging