A FEW MOMENTS MAY CARRY A LIFE : "...Carry Me, Carry Me. Carry Me...above the world..."
“…Carry me, Carry me. Carry me - above the world…”
For many beings, the opportunity to recall and share their gratitude and the beauty, joy, serendipity and love that they have basked in to this point in their life is a happy and fun-filled event. For others of us, well…
From this lofty vantage point of elevated years, I look back over the expanse of my life and find that what really matters to me are a (seemingly rather small) collection of special moments. If you are like me, you may have taken quite a long time to arrive at this realization; that my life actually contains special moments that are richly rewarding and worthy of recall, let alone sharing. The voices of “less than”, “unworthy”, “singleness”, and “fraud” are loud, insistent, constant, and resistant to suggestions of cessation, let alone banishment. As such, it may require an outside agency to provide the necessary impetus to move past these voices and find a different dialogue to participate in.
For me, the generating factor was an assignment in a 300/500HR Yoga Teacher Training (YTT) that I was attending in CY2018. The assignment was to call forth the energies of unconditional love and acceptance inherent in the Heart Chakra and relate how they had manifested in our lives; the so called “Rainbows & Unicorns” moments. We had like 4 weeks between meetings, so there was plenty of time to categorize and refine and deliver between the time of assignment and the return of the deliverable.
As we were gathering for the meeting in which this was to be delivered, I pulled my Teacher aside and said; “Uh, I want to let you know that I have not been able to come up with an appropriate response - I got nothing on this.” To his credit, Rolf just gave me a neutral look, paused, and then said; “You have NO Rainbows and Unicorns? Perhaps you should take a minute and re-examine that. I am confident that you can meet this.”
So, while the group landed and centered, I went off to the other room and tried to find a voice. This is what happened.
The 4th chakra experience.
So, this is supposed to be "rainbows and unicorns", which is jamming me up. I've struggled for weeks with this, and I'm finally just surrendering it.
Caroline Myss says that Love is Divine Power, and that is the meaning of the chakra and it's energy.
So, although I have unconditional love for Shawn, Mike, and Melissa, I seemingly cannot translate that into some sort of transformational experience and relate it.
I do, however, have some moments that touch what I think is being described in this statement "Love is Divine Power".
Circa 1984 : I'm trying to 'short-shift' detox from a bad run by getting away from town for a day, so I basically carjack Shawn and her car and start driving out to the coast of California above Bodega Bay.
Somehow, I avoid driving into another car or off the road, and we end up at Salt Point…where it is sauna heat hot, still, humid and oppressive....baking out in the toxic day.
That night we retreat to a field/grove between the eucalyptus trees, and I crash hard.
I wake somewhere in the deep in the night...lost and confused, mists of fog and spectral dust enveloping, roar of the cosmos seemingly pulsing in rhythm with the surf crashing across the road, stars dancing and shining luminously down through a clearing in the fog above the grove, and I know, in that moment, clearly, how lucky I am that this woman is in my life and willing to be with me.
December 1985 : I'm locked into the rehab wing at the hospital, a fortuitous circumstance of having survived 4 years of service in the US Army which benefited me by providing me with Medicare eligibility, which I am now leveraging for the approved 21 days only of rehab in a 28 day program.
I'm long past the point of caring and deep in the despair of living as an addict, a soulless hole existing in a space that contains no hope of redemption, sick to the core, seemingly unable to die, and facing prison.
I'm looking at the sterile surroundings, harsh fluorescents illumining the spare silver bed frame, 1 sheet, 1 blanket, 1 pillow...and I come to acceptance that this is likely the best circumstance that I will encounter ever again, and I surrender into the reality that, for me, its over.
In that moment, it happens - I suddenly weigh nothing at all and I'm floating on emptiness in the sure knowledge that I will never use again...that I will never have to take another hit, or drink...that I will never have to do that.
It's clear that it ain't going to be easy -but it's equally clear that I'll be OK. I know who I am, I know what it is that I've done.
March 19, 1990 : I'm feeling as helpless as any man who has been through childbirth can feel; amazed and awed at the process, at the strength and power of the woman doing the work of delivery with grace,
and knowing just how ineffectual standing there holding hands, breathing with, massaging back, and slipping ice chips really is to the actual work...having what I now know is a 'felt' experience of just what superfluous means.
After the miracle is over, and they take Shawn away for cleaning and stitching, and the crowd thins out, I'm left alone for a few minutes with my son Mike.
I'm so sure that he'll be this awesome amalgamation of Shawn and my best traits, like a recipe that is refined and polished to provide the perfect result, and I'm all prepared to be just this proud Dad - holding 'my' son up for all to glory in what I did (umm...We did).
I look down into his eyes, and I'm shocked and shattered out of any and all traces of that illusion. God and the Universe are staring at me - deep, dark, mysterious, and totally whole -
and I know that we have the good fortune to be the channel for this beings arrival, but that he is soul incarnated, entirely himself, completely whole, and that, while naturally accepting of being held and supported, he is fully aware and encased in his own destiny.
Although shocked and somewhat shattered by this transmutation of my perceived reality, I'm finally clear on understanding what gratitude is.
We're at Disney World in October 1999. Mike is 9 and Melissa is 7, and we're just another young family living the dream of life at the "happiest place on Earth".
Our final night, we go to Epcot for the celebration of the world - a parade of folks in cultural garb representing most/all of the nations of the world.
They're gearing up for the Millennium and this is the debut of the parade and celebration performance which includes a full orchestral theme composed for this event.
My daughter's eyes are ablaze, her smile inhabiting her entire being, joy flowing out of her every pore as she sits atop my shoulders, watching every group dance by - twirling, clapping, singing, flowing in rhythm with the swollen music - the living embodiment of happiness.
As the last nations group dances by, the fireworks start, lighting the sky with peace and love and color and hope, and in that moment I am complete…and life makes sense, at last.
As I review this again, I am amazed at both the sustained resistance to hearing this voice and the redemptive power that is contained within it. In a “testament to beauty and worth”, it seems clear that as little as one moment may be quite enough to fuel an entire lifetime…and that more than one moment an entryway into….