There are times when we are just in such a seemingly dark place. We don’t know how to get out. Or whether getting out is the way to go at all. We feel stuck in that place. Thoughts just swirl and swirl, stirring unsettling emotions–and more thoughts–along with them.
We might escape those thoughts for a while. But there is always something to remind us of them, again. And again. And again.
The state powerfully affects our moods. We don’t feel like doing anything, or talking to anyone. At the same time, we know, by experience, that doing nothing is a nightmare. It really is. What can one do in this situation? Frustration starts to join in. Now it’s a party. Yeah, why not?
And just like that, something comes up and, suddenly, our mood changes. Happiness and lightness wash over us. We are engrossed in whatever we are doing in front of us. A smile reappears. We feel happy and relief. We are re-energized. For a moment.
Then the thought returns, with reinforcement. Then another emotion emerges. Then another one. Then wisdom comes. Then yet another thought. So on and so forth. Even the body starts to feel its effects. Yet there seems to be no way out of it, at that moment.
Some people think when we have made the intention to start walking on a spiritual path—for lack of a better word, we would be impervious of such states—that no emotions would touch us. We would cruise through life without feeling the ups and downs of emotional turmoil. Nothing can touch us.
True, and false.
True – you know why.
False – because the moment we consciously say yes to walking our path, God (or Life, or Light, or Consciousness, or It, or any other names we are most comfortable with) would respond eagerly with “Game on!” – and the roller coaster ride on this one way track begins. There is no turning back. No cancel button. Not even a pause. Thank God.
We would feel much more intensely than before. Whatever comes, we would be there, as much as humanly possible. We stay, or are stayed, with them. One can only imagine, how would it be when we allow those thoughts, sensations, feelings, and emotions to show their real face and finish whatever stories they want to tell us?
What if we let sadness be sadness? Do we have an idea of what sadness really is? Do we know happiness? Do we truly allow ourselves to experience it? What happens when we stay with whatever it is, and let whatever there is be? What happens if we fully let sadness be sadness? Longing be longing? Happiness be happiness? Love be love? Heartbreak be heartbreak? What if we let us be us?
Intense. Humane. Alive.
Yet we choose to remain there. If every moment is a conversation with Him, would not avoiding a moment mean avoiding the Conversation? We do it, for nothing other than for Love’s sake, for yearning’s sake. Because that is how we really are, how things are. We sit still. In repose. Facing but one direction: Him. Lovingly. I can feel a smile in my face while I am writing this.
We stay. In stillness—sometimes up to a point of physical stillness and silence. Whatever it takes. With all our heart and soul. Smiling. Being swayed to whichever way we are being swayed. Being perplexed with wonders. Being twiddled willingly between the two fingers of God.
At all times, nodding and saying, yes, that’s You. Recognizing here as exactly where and how we are supposed to be. Relishing the ongoing conversation. Honoring the relentless invitation to return. Hugging tightly the Beloved.
Then staying becomes another game altogether. How can one explain peace that is not the opposite of restlessness? Or happiness that embraces both happiness and sadness? Or Truth in which there is no false? Or certainty that thrives even in times of doubt? Or Love which has no opposite? How can one describe the taste and experience of entertaining all sorts of emotions and thoughts and at the same time being untouched by them all?
We have made a promise to our Beloved. Our Beloved has said yes.