I sat on my easy chair on the lanai (balcony or deck in
mainland American language) rocking and swaying rhythmically soothing myself as
I was feasting my eyes and heart on the rainbow-colored sunset that finally
arrived close to nine in the evening.
As I attended to my insides, I noticed a wall like sense of
tension that was “holding my body together” that was made of the caution and
sense of unsafety of this world I live in. Strange in a way for me to now see
this tension I didn’t really explore so deeply before.
Yes, I have faced my fear courageously, maybe stupidly and
certainly naively. I walked into such traps that left me very scared for my
life and survived. How resilient we humans are. Many stories of such adventures I divulged to
the world in my memoir: From Mud to Lotus, I meant to behave but there were
too many other options. But rarely did I take time out to befriend the
inner bodily reality of my fear that sometimes grips me like a straight suit which
holds my almost every move in the world of humanity. When I come to a new and
unknown city or wind my way through unfamiliar streets to a shop or park in a
new town that is unfamiliar and new to me or talk to strangers till they become
friends.
Mostly this fear embraces my relationship with our disintegration
as humans, the slow decline on our way out. I wonder why it is that humanity,
as a general rule, has to go through such uncomfortable or painful
deterioration in its marathon of nearing the end goal of dying, freeing
ourselves of the physical body.
Taking an evening to sit and meditate on this inner dynamic
of tension and relaxation into being, with curiosity rather than
ignoring it, denying its existence, or conquering it through closing my eyes
and thus still maintain control over my internal experience of shaking with
terror. The last resort I noticed myself doing is overcoming the uneasiness by surrendering
into active loving when there was no other option of escape. I have tried all
these tricks. They are all chapters in my life I tried they all seem temporary.
So now I found a new vista of meeting fear-- just sit and explore it as if it
is my best friend in the world that I am happy to be intimate with, rather than
an enemy I fight, tolerate, or expunge disquietude with action. now that seems an
interesting new journey.
I realized that though I have beliefs (ego-based structures
of self-protection) that we are both spirit and ego or what we recognize as our
body, personality, or mater-based self. A belief that when we die, we shed our
body like a snake and reincarnate into our true essence of consciousness free
of pain and ego consternations. That belief doesn’t penetrate deep enough into
my fear base cellular being to eliminate questions or wonders about what really
happens when we die.
But even more close to the bone is the angst about facing
deterioration as a single person, on my own. I have seen and heard of so much
torture and pain that was doled out on us in the holocausts, in wars and
dictatorships all over this planet. Why
do we humans have to have such pain of transformation?! Why do we have to
suffer in our leaving the body. I truly wonder if we need this angst and pain
to be willing to dismantle our life and attachments and start new.
Some say that we never walk into the same river twice… why
is it that walking into a truly unknown river of consciousness without a body
or body armor is so frightening to many of us?
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