I awoke early today under the light of the moon, me who is a
child of the light. Rather than sunbeams reflecting off rolling hills while
birds sing their morning song, I was greeted by the spotlight-like intensity of
the glowing moon, just shy of her fullness, blazing a beam of insight through
the dark night sky. No birds called to me. There was only stillness and quiet. What
better metaphor for the journey I am about to enter into.

I’ll be sitting for my first-ever vipassana meditation
retreat. And if the word retreat conjures images of luxury and pampering, you
are mistaken. By all accounts this practice is quite austere. Sparse, simple
meals and accommodations, just the bare minimum to support you while your days
are spent largely in stillness and with almost total outer silence. No eye contact. No conversation. No reading,
chanting mantras, prayer beads, yoga asana or journal writing. Basically
everything I do in the course of my normal daily spiritual practice must be put
aside and everyone I turn to for sharing and support must be cut off in order
for me to commit to this experience. I am easing in with a day of nature, then
comes ten days of dedicated vipassana practice followed by a final day of words
and outer engagement being reintroduced before returning home.
I woke up this morning with a runny nose and an itch in my
throat having gone to bed feeling 110% fine last night, a sure sign of my body
protesting my heart’s decision. I’ve gone through the mental checklist of all
the things I’ll be missing out on while I’m away, weighing them on a proverbial
scale against the very substantial weight of this undertaking. And I’ve already begun to feel the wave of
contraction creep through me as emotions such as fear, intimidation and worry
arise in the face of this profound experience.
And that is exactly why I’m going.
I’ve taken some major leaps toward the things that I’m
afraid of lately, and yet I know I’m not done. Maybe I won’t be done after
vipassana either, but my gut and intuition both tell me I must do this
regardless. When I refer to my gut, I’m referring to my lower chakras, and when
I refer to my intuition, I’m referring to my higher chakras. That they are all
aligned behind this choice is all the confirmation I need to take yet another
leap. Only this time, unlike some of the recent leaps I’ve taken that were
actually away from certain things that were no longer of service to my highest
vision of myself, this time I’m leaping right into the fire so I can be burned
away and arise anew. This is my phoenix moment.
I’ve conditioned myself to be quite masterful at moving
through emotions I don’t want to feel. Get knocked down? Not for long. Dust it
off, stand a little taller than before, keep moving. That’s me. Resilient.
Brave. Strong. Yet there is a piece of
me who carries those bruises and scars. There is a place inside where I am the
shadow of who I show myself to be most of the time. Reticent. Fearful. Weak.
I don’t want to be fragmented any longer. So I’m going
within to claim these pieces of myself and integrate them into the whole for I
know that it is only in my wholeness, in the whole of my pain as well as my
pleasure, that my full passion and purpose can pour through.

This sense of separation I’ve lived with, that most of us
live with, is a prison. It keeps us locked away from the fullness and richness
of our lives. The truth is I actually
love my life and recognize the abundance of blessings in it already. So imagine
how it would be then to grow that love and increase that abundance by bringing
ALL of me forth into the light of my life? And if I can manage that, how sweet
will it be to eliminate any sense of separation between me and all my brothers
and sisters, the flora and fauna, and the Mother who birthed us all?

See you on the other side!
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