Last week I came down with a strong case of the Kundalini Fever. Or the Ascension Flu. Whatever you want to call it, it was gnarly. Migraines, nausea, bizarre hot flashes, no sleep, nothing but sleep, dropping things, verbal part of brain shutting down mid-sentence and refusing to come back online. Am I cracking up? Or cracking open?
Cracking up or cracking open?
There were a couple moments where I felt like I was cracking up. Going nutto. Or, I thought, I’ve been nuts for a long time and I’m only now realizing it!
Which reminds me of the psychology chestnut: If you’re googling, “Am I a narcissist?” then you probably are not. (A real narcissist would never even think to ask that question.)
Since the Uranus-Pluto-Black Moon Lilith T-square started really heating up last week, I’ve talked to several people who were having a similar experience to mine.
(I checked later, and each of the people who called me to say, “What the f*ck is happening?” had a personal planet in their natal chart being hit by the cardinal T-square with an orb of 1.5 degrees at most.)
Different life circumstances, same core energy. Which I would describe as: “I can’t continue living this way. But I have no idea how to get from here to where I want to be.”
Leaps of Faith
Here are my takeaways from last week:
- The world is changing, much faster than our ego/personality selves are prepared to deal with.
- Living creative, connected lives where we get to do more of what we enjoy with more people we enjoy doing it with is the desired outcome now. It’s the only valid way of changing the world in the energy of the dawning Creative Age.
- The challenge, for many of us, is that we are so habituated to choosing duty, frustration, and self-abandonment over joy that we find it very hard to believe the Universe will support us if we insist on choosing joy.
- There’s a leap of faith that must be taken. Soft landings are not guaranteed.
Part of the challenge for those of us who are being pinned down by this transformational accelerator beam is that we don’t have a road map. I know I’ve received a stream of assurances from my guides that it’s safe to let go and trust. That not only will I be OK, this is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. The Universe is answering my prayers, manifesting my vision of an abundant life, setting me free.
No Road Map
I don’t have the map. Sorry. I believe what my guides and the planets are telling me. Partly because I’ve been here before and it does seem true that after each breakdown, break-up, or breakthrough episode, I always find myself in a better life. Belatedly grateful for the experience.
But I don’t know how I’m going to – or how you should – navigate what happens next. I can share some interesting synchronicity, though.
Yesterday I was talking to a dear friend who is going through a similar existential moment. He said that an awareness of Death is the one constant he can discern in the waves of fear and anxiety when they wash through him.
“I don’t know what it means, but I know it’s Death,” he said.
We talked about how this might be the egoic mind’s reaction to him contemplating finally letting go of the habitual guilt and shame that motivate most of his choices and daily actions. To the egoic mind, spiritual freedom is tantamount to death. When we crack open into the world, we no longer need those old voices of judgment and shame.
Gratitude and standing in the light
A couple hours later I went to the library to return my son’s books and pick out some new ones. My boy was supposed to go with me but I had another headache episode in the afternoon. And by the time I was ready to drive, he no longer wanted to go.
My wife had just happened to leave NPR on the car stereo. We rarely listen to the radio and I was about to turn it off and put Spotify on when I heard the interview subject saying happily, “an awareness of death in every moment, yes!” It was Dr. David Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk and philosopher of gratitude.
I couldn’t stop listening to this joyful man talking about how we can choose to be grateful in every moment of our lives (a practice that has previously been quite difficult for me). Brother David went on to talk about how gratitude is really a way of perceiving that reconnects us to God, or the Creative Power that infuses all of life. Gratitude returns to us a sense of belonging, he said.
What I heard him saying, I realized later, is another form of the perspective I’ve been writing and talking about recently: Forgiveness is imagination in action. Gratitude is actually a form of forgiveness – of self, of others, of the world – because it changes the images in our mind.
Later that evening, I noticed an email my friend Sara had sent me on Friday. “If you haven’t already,” she instructed, “read pages 133-135.” She was referring to a luminous book she gave me for Christmas, Mark Nepo’s Seven Thousand Ways to Listen.
In the chapter, Nepo – who is suffering serious and sudden hearing loss and grappling to come to terms with his new life – talks about a trip through the forest with a neighboring woodsman. His neighbor points out that as trees in the forest mature most of their branches break off.
“It struck me squarely,” Nepo writes.
“Trees in the forest start out reaching for the light and end up standing in the light. Once standing in the light, there is much less need to reach.”
“I feel this happening to me. The ways I’ve reached into the world are dying and breaking off. I’m losing limbs. This is not sad, but developmental. After all these years, I’m reaching less and being more. Can it be that the more we stand in our being, the more the mystery comes to us?”
I don’t know about you, but for me reaching is a reflex. I do it automatically, without thinking. (Or with way too much thinking!)
Standing in the light takes some resolve. It’s easy to give in to the reflex. But the reflex is how we ended up with less of what we want in life. What I’m hearing, when I remember to be still and listen, is that we don’t need a map. We just need to be quiet and listen. And remember to be grateful for the light that is always here, in every moment.