“Why do I want to know the truth of who I really am?”
If we ask ourself that question and are deeply honest in our reply then we may be surprised at what comes up. Perhaps we imagine that we’ll become special, and be admired, loved and revered by others; that we’ll finally be noticed and get the recognition and attention we’ve always craved; or that all our problems and discomfort will instantly vanish and our life will become endlessly blissful.
It may be embarrassing to admit such imaginings but, if we are open to feeling the rawness of that humiliation, then deep honesty is our greatest tool.
We can begin to acknowledge how, in all our fantasising, we lose sight of the obvious fact that all these wonderful benefits are still for the separate ‘me’; ‘me’ who always wants to control life—to get pleasure and escape pain; ‘me’ who is built out of the very sense of longing and lack that it’s trying to escape.
And so the feeling of separation is only enhanced, driving more seeking, creating more separation, driving more seeking. We may go to the ends of the earth, taking on the most severe practises, whilst all the while aggrandising an ever more special, super hard core, spiritual ‘me’.
If we appeal to that deep honesty once more, and sink through the layers of our seeming separate self, what do we discover?
Beneath all the seeking and longing there lurks a deeply uncomfortable feeling of restlessness, loneliness and insecurity. Dare we feel the burn of that dis-ease before rushing off into some new diversion?
Sink deeper, deeper in, and there, despite all our pretending to the contrary, we find worthlessness, inadequacy and unlovability. Dare we feel into the pain of that, without rationalising it all away?
Go deeper, deeper still. For beneath the gnawing agitation, the worthlessness and unlovability, the anger, sadness, guilt and shame, when we’re utterly laid bare, what’s left is the terror of being nothing at all—a deathly absence.
In fully opening to the seeming horror of that nothingness, that abyss, without turning away, without fleeing back into our world of make-believe, without expecting anything in return—no specialness, no recognition, no eternal bliss—the miraculous revelation is that we are not destroyed! On the contrary, we come to realise all that we truly long for—the indestructible love that is our essential, undivided nature.
In that glorious realisation, there is no longer anything to uphold or protect; our suit of armour is outmoded and redundant, on its way out to the mounting scrapyard of beliefs.
We become so good at pretending that we end up believing our pretence, continually upgrading to the latest version to keep up with the rest, not realising that everyone else is pretending too! And there’s the laughter. We can laugh at all the multi level game playing, the convoluted story making, the deadly seriousness, the escapist fantasies and the deep misunderstandings.
The breath of Love gives life to all. Love sees its own face shining in every fallen leaf, in every star, and all that lies between.
