“Careful of the stairs, a few are missing…”
That sense of pure Being that can easily be felt when the mind subsides in times at rest, or when settled into a meditative or contemplative state. It is like pure fresh water. And it is so powerful. I guess what I don’t understand is, how did it come to be that this pure Being gets mixed up with the mind, gets squeezed and distorted by all of the neurotic nonsense regularly churned out by the mind? Why does this pure Being, so strong and perfect in itself, get covered over by the impurities of fear, guilt, shame, etc.?
Last night I dreamt that I was standing outside the house in which I grew up, and it looked to be in simply an awful state of disrepair. Entire rows of shingles and roofwork were peeling off, leaving the inside of the house exposed. And the brickwork and other makeup of the exterior, the very structure of the house itself, was coming undone. It looked like it might not make it through the winter intact.
This is how I have been feeling inside come lately – as though the very structures of my personality can no longer support themselves. There are huge cracks in the foundation, the roof is blowing off… the whole edifice is coming undone. To which I say, “Good!” … Let the rotting infrastructure crumble to dust. It’s time for the pure fresh air to rush in, for the immaculate elemental rains to come down, for the purifying fires to have their way. The antiseptic winds are rushing in, and soon space will mingle with space.
I also had, in-between waking and dreaming, the very distinct sensation that part of me was being lived by God, by this sense of Being. So again, the question I have is, why or how did God deign to get mixed up with these Great Imperfections… why is part of God living out the life that is my fucked-up day-to-day and personal tendencies and makeup?
I suppose there are all manner of conventional religious explanations for how this comes to be, but just looking at it nakedly it seems confusing, and I’m not sure how much a pat religious-based answer would satisfy.
I think one Christian “explanation” is that God hides himself in our rejected parts. As in alchemy, the disowned, the refuse, the neglected shadow elements somehow hold the key to the most vital parts of our being. Somehow these otherwise rejected parts turn out to be equally as necessary as the more rarefied constituents of our Being-ness in order for the Divine mystery to be played out.
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