It’s has been no easy task to find what is real of existence and to discern what, of what I have been taught and become, is grounded in truth. I now know that I have for so long relied on a contracted sense of self that guided my perceived choices about who and what to attend to and follow. My history of grasping onto things that were quite superficial was fuelled by the reality that I wasn’t ready to be more honest with myself, although there was a subtle awareness that I was lost and that suffering was brought on in that. I was not in a place where I could accurately discern where to turn to find something more dynamic and essential of myself.
The reality of what lay deep within the cave of my heart, that belonged to me alone, would remain illusive until in my fumbling a graceful gradual accumulation of courage, that I did not realize I was capable of allowed for penetration into the depths and enabled a movement towards a more complete embodiment of self than I until than had known.
David Whyte writes that there is sometimes a crisis arising where something essential of us is discovered when and where “it is making itself felt, where the touchable rawness of life becomes part of the fabric of the everyday and a robust luminous vulnerability becomes shot through with the necessary, imminent and inevitable prospect of loss, that has been described for centuries as the dark night of the soul.”
For some as it was for me it was revealed as a rush of feeling and intuition, breaking through the filters and assumed perceptions and falsities of “self”. That embodiment was not of willful choice. There seemed to be no option but to leave the folly I had known and attend more honestly to what I was realizing.