recesses of our own bodies, minds, and hearts,
waiting to be recognized."
~Jim Finely
This week isn't going well as far as Mystics. Right away a hitch. Which I expected, but not even this intensely.
In the middle of the reflection on Thomas Merton's words I've stopped the recording. So many strong emotions coming up. First, so much sadness at the thought that this is probably not my path after all. But also the seeing which I've known but keep overriding. My truth, that I cannot find You in religion. I cannot find You in the words, in the ideas, in the trappings of religion. This, this is the word that comes, trappings—it makes me think, ironically, of the Trappist monks, though named for a place not a state of being, La Grande Trappe, France. Still this being trapped is a place. A grand, trapped place.
I cannot find you in the sexism, the misogyny, the dogma of religion, especially religion founded in patriarchy—weren't they all—upheld in patriarchy—ditto. I cannot find You there, cannot find You in those words, cannot find You in god the father, in lord, in master. No. No god the father. No. And that we are filled with him and we are nothing without that. We are nothing without that but not in the way that they think. because we ARE that. I tell the divine that I need not words but direct experience, not religion but spirit; spirit, spirituality; feeling, not thinking; being, not doing. I was hoping, Beloved, that You would be illuminated to me through this path because I don't know what other path there is. If not here, where?
The answer comes to me in living daily life, in the streams, in the stream that I listen to when I meditate/pray, the beads, in how much I love my family, how much I love nature and the world. And what about all the suffering? Annie is suffering. Katie is suffering. Faye is suffering. Ukrainians are suffering. Palestinians. Jews. All around the world people are suffering. What god creates this? Though maybe... I mean those are human questions, they occupy the mind nonstop~and they are not unimportant questions. But what if, what if it's about letting go of trying to make sense of anything, maybe the questions stand in the way, maybe there will never be understanding, and also I think that the glimpses I got of You in nature, in the natural world, before I turned to the Christian mystics, which just felt so pure and so beautiful are as real as any transcendent experience. Maybe it's about feeling the suffering. Letting it break open the heart. You know this. I can feel that You know this.
Then I opened the meditation app this morning and there was a snippet from Robert Frost that's been a favorite since I was a child ~ "
Two roads diverged in a wood,and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference."
And it feels like here I am again, and I don't know why that makes me so sad. And empty. Like will I ever find my place? Will I ever find my way?Like it was here, filled with possibility, with potential meaning, with tiny inklings of something, and now it has left. I want to say that I'm confused but actually I'm not confused. I'm not confused. This is not my path.
Later, getting ready for bed, full yellow moon hanging just outside my window I think that maybe emptiness is good. Maybe it's even perfect. Maybe it's just the right thing because you can't fill a bowl or a glass that's already full. This way there's a place that spirit can move into. Ah. But can we be empty while at the same time filled?
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