Take off the mask August 9, 2009
Posted by admin in : Fear, People Tags:higher self, identities, masks, spiritual journey , add a commentI use to wonder why people, including myself, felt the need to hide behind addictions or labels or titles or whatever masks we chose to wear in order to feel sanctified in the eyes of another. One couldn’t possibly know the answer to this question unless one took off the guise of deception and stopped hiding and the moment one experiences this emancipated state of vulnerability, the answer is clear.
People hide because they are scared of being hurt. If we didn’t live in such a judgmental insolent world where people drum to the beat of humanity instead of their own internal rhythm, we would have a lot more self-confidence and would seek refuge in the opinion of our higher selves instead of the mortals we idolize. Control, greed, and power have brought civilization to its knees. The world began its decent, as religious tyranny, political ruin, and economic hardship made mankind insecure, judgmental, mind-driven machines that learned how to manipulate through the use of guilt and the art of manipulating lower emotions.
It’s no wonder people don’t want to be vulnerable and true to their authentic self. There’s so much pain and suffering people get lost in the mind and become numb to what’s going on at a deeper level because they can’t withstand. We’ve slowly lost our identity and have allowed the collective whole to penetrate our psyche…our spirits buried under the intellectual and logical self becoming impervious to pain. The hurt we actually allow ourselves to feel is masked by our identity in a distracted attempt to protect our spirits.
I didn’t realize this until I felt a kind of pain I had never felt before. It was different in the sense that it was no longer me, the victim, but me, the completely open and vulnerable with a tender heart me. One doesn’t feel pain quite so severely when there’s a wall built around the soul, but when you dig through the layers of the onion and take off the masks and awaken to your essential self, the pain is felt at a much deeper level. It’s a raw organic pain that doesn’t feel like the “woe is me” pain, but a true heart wrenching uninhabited tenderness that seeps through every pore of your being. The mind isn’t telling you stories and the heart begging for sympathy. It’s as if the world stops and your body becomes so real and so firmly rooted in truth.
Talking about it defies its very nature because it’s not a story to be told like some trashy column written as gossip and published for the masses, but a hard physical sensation penetrating deep within the recesses of your being. You’re so conscious and aware of the profound aching, you want to put the mask back on and continue on with the facade, but you can’t. It’s like the pain is holding you down starring you in the face. There’s nowhere to run and no place to hide. It’s just you and the energy that holds the agonizing moment of despair.
I wish I could say, “Stay behind the mask and never experience the kind of pain one would feel standing naked before the world,” but it would go against everything I believed. Digging through layers and layers of crap to get to the real you is where it’s all at because it is in knowing your higher self that light begins to shine through. How can one be open and able to heal and make this world a better place if the waters of the soul are murky and the sky cloudy with dark matter? Once the spiritual path is discovered and made clear of karmic debris, the spirit shines like sunlight through a quartz crystal. It’s clear and vibrant and relentless in its ability to shine in all directions. To not truly open up one’s heart and feel the kind of raw organic pain we deny ourselves is to deny ourselves the very magic of life.
Not so tough afterall October 10, 2008
Posted by admin in : Life 101 Tags:3rd World Country, choices, identities, liberating, self-realization , add a comment
As I was writing about my experiences in New Delhi, something dawned on me. I always thought of myself as someone being tough because of my upbringing. I grew up on a Farm…I watched animals get slaughtered…I was raised with brothers who were rough on me…I was taught how to use a bow and arrow and how to shoot a gun before I was ten…I’ve gone 4-wheeling and driven a tractor…I’ve built a fort in the woods and changed the oil in my car. I learned the art of taekwondo and found a love for kick-boxing. I moved to Japan without knowing the language and traveled around the world. I camped in the woods and cooked on a grill. I wrestled boys and played basketball in heels. I was hit in the face with snowballs and shot in the back with a bee-bee gun. I was raised in an environment where people thought I had to tough and “get over things” instead of “feeling things.”
I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest when my best friend in the whole world moved away. I was seven years old and felt more alone than ever the day her family left. I was laying in my bed crying and wanted someone to come tell me it was going to be okay, but instead I was told to “get it together” and clean up my room…that crying wasn’t going to bring her back. I was met with a similar reaction when my dad died. I was fourteen years old and absolutely devastated. I needed to grieve, feel and honor my feelings, but was told to be strong instead. Nobody seemed to be able to handle my raw emotion so I cried alone behind closed doors in the dark of night.
I remember my brothers use to say, “don’t mess with my sister…she’s tougher than anyone I know.” I never really believed it, but it became my identity. I wanted to be a lover, not a fighter. I didn’t want to beat anyone up. I didn’t want to be tough. I didn’t want to “get over it.” I just wanted to be myself…my sensitive loving self.
I didn’t like confrontation or things that made people hurt. I didn’t like things that were dirty or messy. I didn’t like foul smells or musty odors. I didn’t like creepy crawling things in the night. I liked things that were pleasing to the senses. I liked pretty things and girly things. I liked sweet things and things that made you smile. My heart was tender and full of love for life yet I lived my whole life trying to be this tough girl because that’s who everyone made me out to be.
I went to a 3rd World Country thinking I would be okay because I was a tough girl, but I wasn’t okay and I wasn’t “tough,” but it didn’t make me a weak person. I was still strong, determined, and resilient…just not “tough” in the way that might enable someone to endure the physical unpleasantries and hardships of traveling around a developing country where there weren’t a lot of comforts of home.
I didn’t need to be tough in that way. It’s not me and it feels really good to be able to see and honor a different side of myself. What can I say? I like nice things and I enjoy being comfortable. It’s not to say I can’t endure because I’ve lived through a lot of suffering and pain, but I’ve worked hard to get to where I’m at and I like the sweeter things in life and I enjoy being pampered. I don’t have to go to a poor city to meditate and grow spiritually. I can do the same thing in Mexico on a beautiful serene beach with mystical sunrises and sunsets. It’s not to say I wouldn’t go back to India…I would probably just skip over the poor cities and go straight to the mountains.
It’s exciting to know I can now honor parts of myself that have been denied for so many years. It’s amazing how we can become and behave in ways characteristic of those who had the most influence during our formative years or how we can get stuck in patterns like thinking we have to suffer in order to grow. We become what we are told or what is expected of us. Self-realization is about honoring your true self and being comfortable with being you…the real you. It’s liberating and freeing in a way I can’t even describe.