It’s been a long time since I wrote last and a lot of life has been lived; and some has even died. I, for one, had another near death experience not long ago that left me questioning rather than celebrating once I recovered. But I will talk about that later. I hesitate posting blogs because I fear adding to all the mental masturbation that goes on on the web. And here I am again. I have an excuse.
Recently, I was in a meditation / prayer moment desperate for some sense of direction and inspiration to solve the most recent crisis of my life- no finances because I’ve been too sick to work. Everything has run out and I am once again, on the edge both financially and with my health. With no other place to go, I went inward and upward. I asked for help.
At some point, while I was going on and on, I remembered that I should stop, be silent and listen. After all, how could any inspiration come through if I am expiring the whole time. I shut up. Actually, I said, “Okay. I’ll shut up now and listen.”
The room went still. I closed my eyes and went inside, partially afraid of what I might hear and afraid I would hear nothing at all. Settle. Quiet. Attention inward and upward.
In short order, I heard the words, “write your spiritual journey.” Like a loud-mouthed tourist in a sacred cathedral, I said, “WHAT? Did I hear you say, write your spiritual journey?”
“Yes,” was the answer.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you have any idea what I’m trying to say to you? I am OUT OF MONEY! I CAN’T WORK! There are BILLS to pay! And you want me to write me spiritual journey?! Do you have any idea how many stupid spiritual journeys are out there? Have you been in a bookstore lately? Everyone thinks they’ve got something to say that everyone else wants to hear. I’m not going to be that way! What is WRONG with you?!”
Then I remembered to be quiet again. Taking a deep breath, settling down wave by wave, I sat quietly again… and waited.
Nothing. I waited some more.
Nothing. Just the heater suddenly blowing through the duct and outside a car went by.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Write your spiritual journey.”
Sigh…
“Okay. But I still hope you help me figure out how I’m going to get by these next several weeks.” A calm came over me. I did not continue to argue knowing it was useless. I have lived long enough to know my circumstances are temporary, my feelings are temporary, my life will or will not go on and something will change to set me into the next direction.
So, several days later, with an empty bank account, I sit down and begin writing my spiritual journey. It will be messy and boring and profound and wordy and all sorts of things. But mostly, it will be my own truth as only I can express it. If anyone decides to read it and even maybe find it useful, great.
Here we go…
