LESS EGO / MORE SOUL

Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth,

“You owe Me.”
Look what happens
 with a love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.
—Hafiz

Recently I have been following the work of Charles Eisenstein in his exploration of what he calls “Sacred Economics”. In his book, he explores our historical relationship to money, it’s original purpose and the now warped addiction we have to paper, metal and plastic in this “Age of Separation”.

There are three points he makes that I would like to summarise here, as these insights have really inspired me to adopt a healthier relationship with the universe…

1. We are all born helpless infants; creatures of pure need with little resources to recipricate, yet we are fed, protected, clothed, held and soothed, without having done anything to “deserve it”. This experience, common to everyone who has made it past childhood, informs some of our deepest spiritual intuitions. Our lives are given us; therefore, our default state is gratitude. This is the truth of our existence.

“No wonder ancient religious thinkers said that God made the world, and no wonder they said God gave the world to us. The first is an expression of humility, the second of gratitude. Sadly, later theologians twisted this realization to mean, “God gave us the world to exploit, to master, to dominate.” Such an interpretation is contrary to the spirit of the original realization. Humility knows that this Gift is beyond our ability to master. Gratitude knows that we honor, or dishonor, the giver of a gift by how we use it.”

2. Everything that is sold today was originally a part of the commons – included in the package of life, for all of us to enjoy. As our society has progressed into this Age of Separation however, elements of our communal wealth have been, in effect, stolen to create the commodities traded throughout the world today. You can trace all the materials used for a thing, back to its natural source. This idea of property has perpetuated the ego’s attachment to “mine” and “yours” as we divide our world into increasingly smaller fragments. This is a wound we all feel subconsciously and is perhaps most obvious in the example of property. No longer do we have the luxury to enjoy nature’s beauty like the free animals we were born to be, as our land has been divided and christened with signs proclaiming “PRIVATE PROPERTY – KEEP OUT”.

Take a walk through the country and all humans are bound by the laws of trespassing to stick to the dusty main road while a swallow may carelessly explore whatever territory it wishes.

3. “The urge to own grows in natural response to an alienating ideology that severs felt connections and leaves us alone in the universe. When we exclude world from self, the tiny, lonely identity that remains has a voracious need to claim as much as possible of that lost beingness for its own. “If all the world, all of life and earth, is no longer me, I can at least compensate by making it mine.” Other separate selves do the same, so we live in a world of competition and omnipresent anxiety. It is built into our self-definition. This is the deficit of being, the deficit of soul, into which we are born. And, because there is no apparent limit to what money can buy, our desire for money tends to be unlimited as well.”

I encourage you to indulge your mind in the brilliance of his writing, on a subject that is important for all of us to understand.

You can read Sacred Economics online for free here.

In many ways life is just one big Ayahuasca ceremony – full of teachers and friends, confrontation and contrast, beauty and ugliness, fear and love, pleasure and pain.

A common saying in the Aya world is:

“Ayahuasca might not give you what you want, but she will always give you what you need”

I feel like this works just as well when we look at Life’s, often mysterious, unfolding.

These words remind us to let go of how we think things should be and surrender and explore ourselves based on what Life is offering us.

Often, it is at the point of surrender that we find ourselves pleasantly surprised. Otherwise we’re just swimming upstream, desperately attempting to cling to things as we fear the uncertainty that awaits. It’s exhausting, so I think I’d much rather let go and enjoy the ride.

But I have been learning and thinking a lot about what it means to “surrender” lately…

Firstly, that it’s not about doing nothing and just expecting life to take you somewhere nice. Nope. You do need to have some kind of clarity about what you wish to experience in life.

The art of surrender is to get good at making decisions and taking responsibility for the who, what and why of you, while letting go of the need to control the when, where and how.

Learn to do this comfortably, and you’ll find that Life is pretty good at orchestrating the latter for you.  And if you can just let go of your expectations of how you think things should be, you’ll find yourself laughing more and suffering less.

Secondly, it’s about opening your eyes and learning to recognize and interpret the messages and opportunities that surround us in every moment.

There’s an old joke about a man stuck in the rapids of a rushing river.

Arms flailing in a desperate attempt to keep his head above the water, he prays to God “please save me”.

Seconds later a log floats by. The man continues to thrash and pray. He sees the log, but decides not to grab a hold, trusting that God will save him.

Moments later, a boat comes by and invites him to jump aboard, but the man refuses any help, adamant that God will save him.

Just as the man begins to lose his energy, a hot babe rides by on a jetski and pulls up alongside inviting him to jump on. The man refuses stating “No thank you, I know God will save me.”

Eventually the man drowns and when he arrives in heaven, he asked God, annoyed, “Why didn’t you come and save me?”

“What do you mean?” God replies. “I sent you a log, a boat and a babe on a jetski!”

“Awake.

Shake dreams from your hair
my pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
the day’s divinity
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach and cooled jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it’s quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us.

Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
the time has come again
choose now, they croon
beneath the moon
beside an ancient lake

Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
everything is broken up and dances.

Indians scattered,
On dawn’s highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child’s,
Fragile eggshell mind

We have assembled inside,
This ancient and insane theater
To propagate our lust for life,
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.

The barns have stormed
The windows kept,
And only one of all the rest
To dance and save us
From the divine mockery of words,
Music inflames temperament.

Ooh great creator of being
Grant us one more hour,
To perform our art
And perfect our lives.”

- Jim Morrison, Ghost Song

“What’s wrong?” I asked the body.

“No one listens to me…you don’t listen to me…you just go ahead and make decisions, like you think you know what’s best.”

“That’s not true.”

“Can you feel me now? Can you feel what I feel? I feel sick. And so we feel sick. And I tried to warn you; I tried to tell you to stop eating; that I’d had enough; that more would be too much to handle. But you just listened to the mind who said: more is better, more is good, and god this tastes amazing! But the mind is deluded. It doesn’t know how to feel. It gets distracted. It’s been conditioned. It doesn’t understand.”

“Come now, I’m sorry…”

“And then when I want more of something you listen to the mind again. Your exercising and I feel great. But the mind is bored. The ego is afraid; it doesn’t want to be silenced by the heart beating ecstatically in our chest. It doesn’t want it’s thoughts being pushed to the side as you surrender to existence; feeling the breath, flow through our lungs; feeling the blood rush through our veins. And so it says enough. I tried, and now lets stop. It tells you I’m not strong enough. And so you give up; afraid to go into the unknown. Little do you know I was just beginning to enjoy myself.”

“Look I’m really sorry…Can I make this up to you? What can I give you? Do you want food? Water? Do you want to rest?”

“No. You’re still not getting it. I want nothing. I need nothing. Except for you to check in with me from time to time; to listen to me at least as much as you listen to your mind; if not more…I watch you, day after day, walking aimlessly around, trying to find God; trying to experience enlightenment. But you can’t because you aren’t prepared to allow yourself to feel; to be with discomfort. Your mind – bless it’s chemistry – is too focused on finding remedies; “solutions” to the so called challenges of feeling. It’s a game the universe is playing with you; guarding its best kept secrets behind the façade of illusions…distractions to make you forget. I live in that world; where everything is beautiful and everything is right. But what is wrong is that you aren’t here to share that with me.”

“I want to be with you.”

My body laughed. “Oh it will take some time. But I would like that very much.”

“Okay, so how do I…?”

“Stop trying. Stop living by certain “rules”.  Just allow yourself to feel fully and act in alignment with those feelings. That’s all you need. Don’t listen to the mind and don’t think. Don’t judge and don’t try to change things. By all means gravitate towards that which makes you feel good, but try and stay aware of temptation; aware of distractions that lead you away from that which you seek so desperately; aware of your fear that invites those distractions. In other words, learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable.”

We sat in silence for a few moments. I didn’t know what to do.  I sat for a while. I waited. I even meditated – or well I tried. But the truth is I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what I feel… Maybe I should go and read a book... My mind said. Unconsciously, I made  a move.

“And that was all I allowed myself,” my body sadly sighed.

Q: Who am I?

A: Who cares?

“Of this I am certain: something happens every time I stop fighting with the way things are. Something happens to every one of my students when they stop running their familiar programs about fear and deficiency and emptiness. I don’t know what to call this turn of events or the freshness that follows it, but I know what it feels like: It feels like relief. It feels like infinite good-ness. Like a distillation of every sweet fragrance, every hearstopping beauty, every haunting melody you’ve ever heard. It feels like the essence of tenderness, compassion, joy, peace. Like love itself. And in the moment you feel you recognize that you are it and that you’ve been here all along, waiting for your return.

When you forget, which you always do, you suddenly understand that kindness to anyone – a plant, an animal, a stranger, a partner – brings you closer to this. That taking care of your body is taking care of this. That taking care of the earth is taking car of this. And that you’d turn away from anything or anyone that asked you to leave this because this is what you’ve wanted, this is what you’ve longed for, this is what you’ve loved for eons.

You know without knowing how you know that every step you’ve ever taken, every person you’ve ever loved, every task you’ve ever accomplished has been This meeting This. You returning to yourself. And that hell is nothing more than leaving this. Heaven is already here on earth.”

- From Women, Food and God by Geneen Roth

Rattle me, and my
Xylophone bones
It’s cold outside
All alone

Grandmother, Grandmother
Ancient and old
Tell me a story
Show me your soul…

The Amazon calls
A home with no walls
And now I can feel you
My creator, my maker

The purest desire
To touch with my hands
To play with the darkness
Experience contrast

So this is the joy
This is the answer
Consciously seeking
What my heart aches for.

So teach me to love
Teach me to care
Teach me to let go
Of the scars that I bear

What is it to feel?
To care what is real?
To be having these thoughts now
Unaware of their meaning

The vine of the soul
Taking me home
Embracing uncertainty,
I’m letting my guard down.

And I understand now
As you pour salt on my wounds
It stings like a snake bite,
Lying here breathing

But I am alive
In my own lucid dream
Passion like thunder
Alpha / Omega

Its time to evolve,
Live life and grow old
A thousand little deaths now
This is what I live for…

I’m aware of this life
I don’t live to survive
But because I want to
No longer an orphan

And with new awareness
Accepting the madness
I’m choosing to play now
This moment is mine.

Forget and remember
This is never ending
My truth is simple:
I am still breathing.

And it comes and It goes
It ebbs and it flows
The transitory nature
Of a life fully lived.

Going through my notes from the temple, I was struck with a deeper understanding of the fear I was confronted with during my first Ayahuasca ceremony. I remember the profound déjà vu, and how I was disappointed with the realization that I was all there is. I felt alone despite all of the parts of me that I had created on this earth in order to address this sadness.

I felt my loneliness echoing around me, bouncing off the harsh truth of what it means to be absolutely everything; the reality that illusions are, at the end of the day, just illusions. This was the birth of the purest desire to create separation, others, playmates, a distraction from this lonely hell. And while we, The Source enjoy our self as we exert our creativity in the formation of this universe, there is still loneliness at the end of the day.

We, God, are an island, surrounded by no-thing-ness; a blank canvas for creation. An orphan.

Alone we play all the parts, creating the illusions of others, orchestrating the story of humanity like a child creates their own world as they play with their dolls, producing a range of characters and drama. And we are addicted to this insignificant game of life, the amusement it provides and the satisfaction we get from experiencing the spectrum of all life has to offer.

At this realisation, I laughed at myself for wanting or expecting to ‘get somewhere’ or to attain enlightenment through rigorous spiritual practice, because in this omnipresent state it was clear to me that living as a human was much more exciting than the world beyond. [I note that there are some very beautiful places to visit beyond ‘reality’ and that spiritual practice can be very fulfilling when done from a place of enjoyment rather than duty, guilt or obligation, however, it is our human perspective and the contrast of our earthly lives that makes these other worlds so alluring in the first place.]

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* I use the word God here as spiritual shorthand to describe life, love, the source, the universe, existence, the soul or whatever else you believe in.

I overheard on the news the other day of the pope “the person many believe is god’s representative on earth”.

People; do you realise that we are all god’s representatives on earth?

Have you ever noticed how you tend to be most generous when you are happy?

That was just a thought I had…

I’m worn to the bone. Today was nice enough though. I was in a great mood, one of those ones where you find yourself thinking ‘yes this is exactly who I am’. One of those days where you have no fear, just courage.

As a spur of the moment idea, I ditched my last lecture in favour of this spiritual chanting dinner in West End. The food was 10/10 and the people are all so interesting and beautiful.

My only issue is my slight frustration with meditation and chanting. While I would really love to learn how to mediate and practice on a regular basis, like most, I find it so difficult to ‘clear my mind’. I’m a total over-thinker by definition and while I generally enjoy the company of my thoughts, on the conventional path to spiritual enlightenment this is a bit of a pothole.

The first time I went to a chanting session it was intoxicating, like the first time you smoke a cigarette and get that amazing head-spin. You smoke the rest of the pack in the vain hope of the same experience, but alas it’s only a memory as you have developed a tolerance.

Likewise, my first session left me feeling so cleansed and calm afterward; it was addictive. However, ever since, I feel like I’ve just been vainly chasing that memory. Part of the issue is my over-thinking mind; it wants to know exactly what I am chanting – the exact translation, before it gives in to the experience again.

I have been told, but it’s times like this that I have the memory of a sieve, and when I am having these thoughts (as we sit around chanting) it is hardly the time to ask again.

As a result I spent most of the session deconstructing my inability to let go and just ‘observe’. The conclusion I came to was this:

While I am a very spiritual person, who considers herself to be fairly self aware, my issue with chanting stems from my upbringing.

Going to an all-girl Anglican private school where we had compulsory christian education lessons and chapel services – often involving mindless chanting and devotion to a construction of God I really do not agree with – did not rub well with me.

I hate the idea of worshiping an almighty God. In fact, part of my own personal belief system is that we are ‘it’; We are God. God is us, in a human form to experience life. Therefore, there is no-one to worship but ourselves. (I know I’ve failed to put this into the substantial context here – but hear with me and I’ll draw you a picture one day).

A great quote that illustrates my point is from the book Eat, Pray, Love.

‘God needs us because God loves to feel things through our hands‘ .

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