Even when we're not that aware of what our destiny might be, we're aimed at it, or it's drawing us toward it. The closer we get, and look back over our life, we see the good sense, the "joke" that even when we thought we were wasting time, or drifting about, we were actually on purpose, that it's pretty hard to stay off purpose for long. It's just downright hard to move forward when you're off purpose. The other night, in my journal, I wrote about how one of the main flows of my own life has unfolded.
"First there was an urge to create and express. It was private. It satisfied me without me being recognized for it. I drew, I wrote, I made things and arranged things. I kept on making sense of it all, by myself. Then I started speaking of my ideas and insights, loosely in innocuous conversations, and people responded; they joined in. I talked more. I wrote more. And soon I took sharing to the level of teaching—what a surprise that people found small benefit in my perceptions and words and idea clusterings. That settled in and became normal. I found what I was thinking was a barometer of what others were thinking and this encouraged me to continue sharing—in a way that reassured me that I wasn't egotistical.
After all, this was a way I could experience communion and comaraderie with others, which I so enjoyed. Yet underneath, the soul seemed unrelenting in its desire to translate insightful experiences into paragraphs, poetry, and phrases that could change consciousness. I dreamed that someone told me I was a "verbal healer," that I could utter one phrase that could shift a person into their deep memory of themself, into their 'Aha!'—and they would open to receive who they really were. This idea felt good.
Then, after awhile, I stopped my flow. What about silence? What about spaciousness? What about Being? What about not having to do so much? Did I have to affect everyone positively? What's left if I don't do good? "People will continue to evolve on their own," the voice responded. But will I know who I am? Now this got shaky. No words. No insights. No wisdom. No translation? Am I still here? I dared to collapse my reality and discovered a smiling, neutral, immensely loving presence, observing and also participating, simultaneously. A presence that is entertained by everything, and also beyond amusement. It's so nurturing in its encompassing-ness and in its uncompromising attentiveness. Nothing else is needed. All things welcome.
Now the describing reemerges. The shaping urge. The joy of sounds and the creation of meaning and new pathways in the brain. I am affected and I affect."
Art by Janaia, www.janaia.com
