
There's no place like home.
“Freedom from illusions lies only in not believing in them.” –A Course in Miracles
When I write something and it’s completely true to where I am at a particular moment, or period of time, I feel satisfied. I felt that way when I last wrote in September of 2008. The quote was, and still is so apt. My short exploration, however clumsy, was pretty successful in encompassing a much larger feeling of seeking and failing to arrive because of a distraction that soothed the ego, at least for a time. That ego thing is a real high maintenance nightmare.
Since then, I have been on some adventures that have really challenged me. I’ve been forced to look at some rather unpleasant aspects of myself, and how these tend to manifest on this dizzying endless carousel ride called “life.” Most unpleasant of all, though, was to realize I’ve been running and running and running… searching for meaning and purpose and when life fails to deliver, running somewhere else. What is it that I’ve been running from? I supposed this is the first time I’ve ever stopped running long enough to ask myself. The unpleasant and somewhat ironic answer? The truth.
THE TRUTH!!?? But isn’t that the very thing I’ve been seeking? That’s WHO I AM AFTER ALL… Oh no, I recognize that endlessly rationalizing and defender of self. It may be high maintenance, but that ego, it just keeps running.
And that’s when it happened. It was a terrifying feeling, but somehow freeing. The Truth? None of this MEANS ANYTHING. There is NO MEANING to anything that happens here. At first, I thought I might have finally lost it and become suicidal. That is a scary thought, but I entertained it anyway. The results of which were somewhat confusing, I realized for one, I am not particularly afraid of death nor do I seek it. Two, there is still meaning, it simply cannot be found OUTSIDE of me.
All of this has been floating around in my awareness for a few months, making for some fascinating dreams and some serious reframing of priorities. I also started to feel something, and at first I wasn’t really sure why or where it was coming from but I felt intensely sad. I felt like I missed something so very much and felt helplessly alone. As I allowed myself to surrender to this feeling and experience it, I realized I always feel this way and work very hard to compartmentalize it, to put it away somewhere I don’t have to be reminded. What does it mean?
A very dear friend of mine, whom I consider family, has been facilitating A Course in Miracles study group. She has mentioned it to me in the past, but I never felt specifically called to it. To be honest, I was severely skeptical. Living in Northern California, there’s all kinds of channeled/healer/enlightened/new agey bullshit floating around, and this particular brand purported to be directly from Mr. Jesus H. Christ himself. Right. I’d had enough Jesus bologna in my formative years to last me a few lifetimes. Regardless, I made an effort to be open to her and something in which she had found profound truths. After a few of our dizzyingly deep conversations, I found that it continued to come up and I found myself becoming more and more interested.
She recommended an introductory book to me, one that she knew would resonate with my down-to-earth sensibilities. Written by a self-proclaimed smart-ass and procrastinator, The Disappearance of the Universe is proving to be an incredible read. In fact, I can’t put it down. It has even prompted me to begin my own exploration of A Course in Miracles.