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qosThe last few weeks have been very productive in regards to working on my spiritual direction business, but not so good in the area of personal spiritual practices. I had been ramping up and getting into a groove, and then I injured my knee. Even though it was a mild issue, it derailed the good habits I'd been developing in exercise, eating, and spiritual practices.
This morning I knew I had to do my practices, but I felt fierce, deep resistance -- so instead of gritting my teeth and just doing it, I went into my bedroom and got into my journeyinbg/communing headspace and just tried to center. LM showed up once I'd relaxed a bit. Often his presence is kind of nebulous, but today he was very distinctly sitting opposite me with his hands out for me to hold. I took his hands, and we had a very good conversation.
Most of what we talked about isn't for public sharing, but we had a good exchange about my resistance to my practices.
What is it that you don't like about them? he asked.
"They're boring!" I replied, embarrassed to even be saying it.
And?
"I don't feel like they're doing anything. . . And they're tiring. . ."
Yeah, that's me: a grown-up woman and initiated priestess grousing like a spoiled kid about the fundamentals of spiritual life. Like I wrote above: the last few weeks haven't been so great.
LM, however, was not about to let me evade the main issue by getting embarrassed. He treated each of my objections seriously, making me face each one.
Okay, they're boring. But they would be less boring if you did them with more mindfulness. There are depths in them you haven't begun to scratch. If it helps, try thinking of them like sword forms: you have to do them again and again and again, until they feel completely natural -- and then you keep doing them, every day. There is no way to get the value from them if you don't do them consistently, every day.
The idea of sword forms appealed to me, and he said, You're not a warrior, you're a priestess. You have your own forms of discipline and strength. . . You've spent a lot of time thinking of those traits primarily in warrior terms. You need to re-think them within your own paradigm, now that you've finally settled into it.
Good point.
Next issue: I don't feel like I'm accomplishing anything.
Obviously, if I did them more consistently I'd feel more accomplishment -- but even then it's often slow progress.
LM reminded me that I've been on this path for less than two years, and that the worthwhileness of these practices have been proven by thousands of people over hundreds of years -- and maybe I ought to respect that. Then he said, This is where you go deep, remember? It takes a lot of digging to get deep. [And here I got a distinct image of someone digging with a shovel.] You've only gotten a little way down. And then I had the image of a long, rocky path, and was reminded of a message of a week or so ago: ascent is difficult too. It takes time and effort to get there.
Finally: It's hard, tiring.
I got no sympathy there.
LM is a warrior, and the degree of effort required to do my cycle of spiritual practices hardly registers on his scale. Too bad. Do it anyway. Work up some mental and spiritual muscle was the gist of his response -- accompanied by an intense stream of images of what "difficult" really is.
Tomorrow is the second anniversary of his death. I've reached a new level of healing in the past couple of weeks, but that's allowed other equally old but previously hidden griefs to come out: the loss of Michael and his love, and the loss of the life the three of us shared. Two years ago, Michael held me in his arms as I cried for LM. This morning, LM held me in his arms while I cried about Michael. It was awful, and it was healing.
Finally, when LM and I had said everything there was to say, he told me that I needed to see Ereshkigal. He shifted his position so he was behind me, his hands on my shoulders. I went to Her throne room.
And She turned Her back on me.
I had been warned before that if I was not faithful with my practices that She would "abandon me." Not forever -- but if I was going to ignore my responsibilities, then She would not feel obligated to maintain the relationship. I need to start doing the whole cycle, every day -- as I had been. After a week of doing every practice every day, I can come back and see Her again.
I haven't been fired, and I'm not banished, but I'm not in Her favor.
She has no interest in apologies, shame, or emotional drama.
It's very simple. I can do what I'm supposed to do, or I can try to quit.
Had I mentioned that during my first initiation I formally accepted that quitting was not an option?
LM didn't try to play down the significance of this, but he did reassure me that I was not -- and would never be -- alone. Not only is he always there, I have other friends and allies and guardians, most of whom I'm not fully aware of, who are looking out for me.
I need to get my act together and start behaving once again like the priestess I am.
I started by doing all my practices -- and She was gracious enough to acknowledge that, even from a distance -- and later this morning I finished the devotional collage that I've been working on for Her. I made one last year and got it framed to put above my altar, but it won't fit in the altar space in my new apartment. I really enjoyed going through my image collection and starting from scratch. Some of the images are the same, others are new. It's interesting to see how my perceptions of Her and myself and our relationship have shifted. The other thing I like is that while some images are definitely of Her and others definitely are me, there are some that are ambiguous. To me that speaks to my increasing identification with Her, my taking on Her qualities as part of my worship and service.
ETA It's not like I didn't have a warning about Her displeasure. Last weekend She and I had an intense encounter that was intended to help us reconnect and help me get back on track. But I didn't integrate the experience and let the energy just fizzle away instead of using it to bootstrap myself. Since intimacy and a carrot were not effective in adjusting my behavior, She is using isolation and displeasure to make Her point.
This morning I knew I had to do my practices, but I felt fierce, deep resistance -- so instead of gritting my teeth and just doing it, I went into my bedroom and got into my journeyinbg/communing headspace and just tried to center. LM showed up once I'd relaxed a bit. Often his presence is kind of nebulous, but today he was very distinctly sitting opposite me with his hands out for me to hold. I took his hands, and we had a very good conversation.
Most of what we talked about isn't for public sharing, but we had a good exchange about my resistance to my practices.
What is it that you don't like about them? he asked.
"They're boring!" I replied, embarrassed to even be saying it.
And?
"I don't feel like they're doing anything. . . And they're tiring. . ."
Yeah, that's me: a grown-up woman and initiated priestess grousing like a spoiled kid about the fundamentals of spiritual life. Like I wrote above: the last few weeks haven't been so great.
LM, however, was not about to let me evade the main issue by getting embarrassed. He treated each of my objections seriously, making me face each one.
Okay, they're boring. But they would be less boring if you did them with more mindfulness. There are depths in them you haven't begun to scratch. If it helps, try thinking of them like sword forms: you have to do them again and again and again, until they feel completely natural -- and then you keep doing them, every day. There is no way to get the value from them if you don't do them consistently, every day.
The idea of sword forms appealed to me, and he said, You're not a warrior, you're a priestess. You have your own forms of discipline and strength. . . You've spent a lot of time thinking of those traits primarily in warrior terms. You need to re-think them within your own paradigm, now that you've finally settled into it.
Good point.
Next issue: I don't feel like I'm accomplishing anything.
Obviously, if I did them more consistently I'd feel more accomplishment -- but even then it's often slow progress.
LM reminded me that I've been on this path for less than two years, and that the worthwhileness of these practices have been proven by thousands of people over hundreds of years -- and maybe I ought to respect that. Then he said, This is where you go deep, remember? It takes a lot of digging to get deep. [And here I got a distinct image of someone digging with a shovel.] You've only gotten a little way down. And then I had the image of a long, rocky path, and was reminded of a message of a week or so ago: ascent is difficult too. It takes time and effort to get there.
Finally: It's hard, tiring.
I got no sympathy there.
LM is a warrior, and the degree of effort required to do my cycle of spiritual practices hardly registers on his scale. Too bad. Do it anyway. Work up some mental and spiritual muscle was the gist of his response -- accompanied by an intense stream of images of what "difficult" really is.
Tomorrow is the second anniversary of his death. I've reached a new level of healing in the past couple of weeks, but that's allowed other equally old but previously hidden griefs to come out: the loss of Michael and his love, and the loss of the life the three of us shared. Two years ago, Michael held me in his arms as I cried for LM. This morning, LM held me in his arms while I cried about Michael. It was awful, and it was healing.
Finally, when LM and I had said everything there was to say, he told me that I needed to see Ereshkigal. He shifted his position so he was behind me, his hands on my shoulders. I went to Her throne room.
And She turned Her back on me.
I had been warned before that if I was not faithful with my practices that She would "abandon me." Not forever -- but if I was going to ignore my responsibilities, then She would not feel obligated to maintain the relationship. I need to start doing the whole cycle, every day -- as I had been. After a week of doing every practice every day, I can come back and see Her again.
I haven't been fired, and I'm not banished, but I'm not in Her favor.
She has no interest in apologies, shame, or emotional drama.
It's very simple. I can do what I'm supposed to do, or I can try to quit.
Had I mentioned that during my first initiation I formally accepted that quitting was not an option?
LM didn't try to play down the significance of this, but he did reassure me that I was not -- and would never be -- alone. Not only is he always there, I have other friends and allies and guardians, most of whom I'm not fully aware of, who are looking out for me.
I need to get my act together and start behaving once again like the priestess I am.
I started by doing all my practices -- and She was gracious enough to acknowledge that, even from a distance -- and later this morning I finished the devotional collage that I've been working on for Her. I made one last year and got it framed to put above my altar, but it won't fit in the altar space in my new apartment. I really enjoyed going through my image collection and starting from scratch. Some of the images are the same, others are new. It's interesting to see how my perceptions of Her and myself and our relationship have shifted. The other thing I like is that while some images are definitely of Her and others definitely are me, there are some that are ambiguous. To me that speaks to my increasing identification with Her, my taking on Her qualities as part of my worship and service.
ETA It's not like I didn't have a warning about Her displeasure. Last weekend She and I had an intense encounter that was intended to help us reconnect and help me get back on track. But I didn't integrate the experience and let the energy just fizzle away instead of using it to bootstrap myself. Since intimacy and a carrot were not effective in adjusting my behavior, She is using isolation and displeasure to make Her point.
