Washed Onto the Shore

I have not posted anything in a long time; today I checked my blog for the first time in weeks and though I still don’t have much to say, I pushed the “write” button to face the blank page of a draft, perhaps the most courageous act I have done in a while.

Prior to this two-year seemingly dry period I was spiritually active, I read a lot and reflected a lot on spiritual matters; and so naturally I had a lot to say and write. For the past two years, however, I was held down by my own humanity, or by that impulse of human constitution which goes against the spiritual impulse to ascend; I moved against my natural instinct to free myself; I became my own shackles.

I descended to the depths, to where no ray of light could reach, to where corruption ruled, to a city in which degeneration was accepted as exciting the norm. I sat so much with the monsters of this underworld that I became one, and I saw that I was one from eternity.

I passed by beautiful mermaids, drank their wine, and laughed out-loud to my heart’s content; little did I know that what I heard as laughter was the cry of the suffocating spirit. I took with me a land creature to live among the fish.

But let what happened in the sea stay in the sea. I forgot my way back to the surface so I was washed onto the shore in an unconscious state and woke up later by the piercing force of sunlight on my skin. “Oh my Sun,” I yelled “had you forsaken me!”

Was my frightening visit to the underworld a dream of a man falling asleep on the beach? Was it a experimental course in human possibilities? Was it a tour and a lesson initiated by the eternal guide, or was a it detour in the Path because there’s roadwork in my life!? I will never know, but I know what I saw:

We do not become sinners and monsters, nor do we become saints and heroes; we are at once all of it. Which of our faces is seen depends on the mirror into which we stare; what we manifest from this infinitely wide range of possibilities depends on the habitat and the company, on people, places, and things to which we cling. I am that majestic brilliance that shines the color of whatever object lies next to it.

Man contains within itself all the possibilities of good and evil. A man or a woman is at once a potential saint and a potential sinner, at once a monster and a hero fighting the monster. The battle is always between the opposing poles of one and the same Person. Life begins with a broken polarity and comes to its conclusion with a return to perfect balance.

This strange creature that I am contains all the opposites within itself waiting to manifest one or the others. I am a man of a thousand faces, and this world is a mirror I face every morning. And every night when I return to the primordial balance of dreamless sleep, all the opposites within me cancel each other out, and hence the world vanishes. Everyday, nonduality breaks into duality, and duality returns into nonduality. This world, a stage for the dance of strife, appears only when Sakina (the Great Peace) shatters.

And this man, this finite vessel of infinity itself, is in its essence the coincidence of all opposites. Rumi, the Persian saint and poet, defines God as the “coincidence of all opposites,” but he also says that man in his deepest essence is identical with with the divine.

What all this teaches me is vigilance, for although I may be divine by nature, still monsters live in me, monsters that can be released, monsters whose sight scare the shit out of me regardless of whether I am dreaming or not.


7 thoughts on “Washed Onto the Shore

  1. Amen. You may have been away but you were not forgotten. I am glad you are well. 🙂

    We really are both saints and sinners at the same time and that dark stuff that scares us, it must be gently loved into harmony. Some of my worst qualities in the hands of the Great Potter have become some of my greatest strengths.

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  2. Frightening, yes, the “dark side” of ourselves, but necessary to face, to caress and to integrate to make whole. Perhaps there is no more frightening journey imaginable. It doesn’t matter the of source of the experience – it is a lesson, a verity, and it is us. We are wise beyond our dreams.

    What great saint or “hero” has not faced a dark night of the soul?

    No guilt, no excursion in the land of judgment, nothing required but acceptance, tolerance and love of self. There is a lot to love.

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  3. Like you, I’ve been very absent following a two year period of writing, praying, and introspection. I do love reading what you write, and have checked in with you from time to time (even though I haven’t had anything to write myself). I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been down to the depths, but that’s all part of the journey I guess. I do SO understand! Regardless, here you are. And we are happy that you Are. God Bless you, friend!

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    1. Thanks you Joseph for leaving me a comment. I had missed you and your presence. I am glad you’re back and look forward to hear/read about new revelations in your heart. God bless you too brother. Love and peace

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