A few nights ago in a dream, I laid face down on the ground and defiantly stated:
“I’m done. I’m done with this priestess Work.
When I woke the next morning, I was bothered but not surprised by the dream.
Since returning from the Emerging Women event in NYC, I’ve felt a distinct kind of divine depression, a slap down of my lofty spiritual ideals, a subtle refusal to continue my mission, accompanied by a teenagerly ‘tude: “fuck off universe, this gig totally blows,” and the sinking realization that shit might not “get better” for a loooong time on this planet…no matter what I, or souls far greater than I, do.
What triggered this?
My priestess Work at Emerging Women. On the surface, I gave a simple talk at this event. Beneath the surface, I was delivering a delicate but direct dose of the true Divine Feminine – not just to the women attending Emerging Women or to the spiritual/self-help arena, but also to Times Square…to Manhattan…to the United States….to Iraq…to India… to an extra-thick layer of energetic bondage that stretches far deeper and far wider across this planet and inside each of us than I’d care to know.
But I have to know that things like “energetic bondage” exist in order to do this priestessing Work.
However, after I gave my talk at Emerging Women, when I watched that golden drop of Her I Worked so hard to deliver… appear to disappear… into the dense and determined darkness…again….
I felt an energetic exhaustion in every bone of every body I have ever had on this planet.
And a part of me felt done.
And then I felt ashamed that a part of me felt done…
I felt unspiritual and unevolved and well, wrong for feeling done.
And then my Lady scooted my unspiritual and unevolved ass to a Mahatma Gandhi exhibit at the Menil Museum where I happened upon the last interview Gandhi ever gave, which took place on the morning of January 30th 1948.
The interviewer for Life magazine asked Gandhi if he still wanted to live till he was 125 years old (something Gandhi had stated to this particular reporter in a previous interview).
Gandhi answered: “I have lost that hope.”
When the interviewer asked him why, Gandhi responded: “because of the terrible happenings in the world. I do not want to live in darkness and madness. I cannot continue…(he went silent). Then he admitted, “But, if my services are needed, or rather, if I am commanded, then I shall live to be 125.”
The interviewer asked him a few more questions when Gandhi exclaimed:
“All is dark.”
The surprised interviewer asked him “have you found the light?”
Gandhi sadly said, “I have not found it yet. I am struggling for it. If I could find the light, my hope would revive.”
And the last few sentences Gandhi uttered in this staid interview were: “the world is not at peace…it is still more dreadful.”
A few hours later, Gandhi was assassinated.
More than the words he spoke, the honest human feelings this Great Soul felt cracked my human heart open and nothing but respect and love poured out – for the salty imperfect realness of him, for my own divine depression (despite my far smaller and easier life mission) and for all who are feeling totally worn down by earth’s ragged reality.
Was Gandhi “being the change” he wanted to see during that interview? Not really. Did sharing his “negative” feelings publicly take away from his extraordinary impact and contribution on this planet, or from his holiness? Not one bit.
So, why do so many of us diss our humanity in order to try and match/sound like/project/perpetuate oppressively positive spiritual ideals? Why is it so hard for many “spiritual” peeps to simply be real with the paradox of Who We Are and the undeniable dire straits of this planet?
Perhaps I’m just talking about myself.
The spirit-addict in me who prefers to focus on the bright and shiny “it’s all good, it’s All God” paradigm of ultimate spiritual perfectionism, worries that my years getting stripped to my Core in the red tent have made me a negative Nelly, a Debbie downer on non-dual divinity, and a sour cherry in America’s overly-sweet and flaky spiritual pie.
But when I press pause on my spiritual ego’s critiques, my Lady gently reminds me that being willing to acknowledge and feel the darkness, the fucked-up’ness and even “evil” itself (inside and outside of us) is a gutting (but grounding) and absolutely necessary practice of spiritual sobriety and reflective of a different kind of spiritual maturity.
Occasionally turning down the light in order to know the dark is a sacred schooling.
Being willing to enter all dimensions of Life with eyes wide open is a radical act of courage, continual choice, and conscious commitment.
And feeling royally pissed off and depressed by It All (and acting like a moody bitch) is a well-earned right…and a funky kind of mysterious blessing.
She dares me to hold BOTH the darkest of the dark and the lightest of the light, but warns me about creating a negative or positive imbalance (overly focusing on, or favoring, one over the other).
She tells me that this is how Divine Love incarnates. It’s how I embody Her and Serve this planet and Honor the co-created bare-assed Reality of this Universe.
She moves through my cells a memory of a Love that is way bigger and way truer than just “love and light.”
Threading Us All Together.
A few obvious take aways from this after-Sunday school special:
If Gandhi felt like giving up and things had gone to shit, it’s OK if we “spiritual” people do too. It’s OK to feel “done” sometimes. It’s OK to throw in the transcendent towel, draw the cosmic curtains, hang the “do not disturb sign” on your divine doorknob and watch 6 seasons straight of True Blood.
It’s OK, and I would now venture to say, absolutely necessary,
FEEL IT ALL.