Satchitananda

Instead of surface-level suffering -

Getting frustrated, irritated, snapping at small things -

Go deep into gut-level, face-to-the-floor grief,

Where the inner being lies.

Get to the source of it all,

Go under the unconscious,

Deep beneath the pain and hell and terror,

And die. Let yourself die there.

After death you’ll rise,

At peace. You’ll still breathe,

But now, you are the breath,

Not the mind. Nothing terrifies you now.

The death of the self is the gateway

To Heaven on Earth. Simply created

Oneness. No desire, no fear, just

Being. Consciousness. Bliss.

Death to Self

I’ve been reading the Dr. Harry Tiebout: Collected Writings, realizing how much I’m driven by unconscious forces. I realize this over and over, always after a period of suffering, then I go back to being run unconsciously, suffer, awaken, repeat.

Dr. Tiebout is of the belief that one can achieve not merely a reduction of ego, but elimination - even if only briefly and temporarily. It requires going into one’s self - slowing down, becoming aware of what’s happening inside the body. I’ve heard this many times before by many another author and speaker.

This ego elimination is the death of the self - the “lose your life to gain it” type-thing described by Jesus. Instead of allowing myself to be propelled unconsciously by the ego in infinite restlessness, irritability and discontentment, if I take the time to go within, slow down, become aware - I may be able to achieve the death of the unconscious self that is driving me blindly into despair, repeatedly. By shining the light into the darkness, I won’t be so lost in it.

I hope I can remember this. I am going to start practicing, now. Well, for now, I’ll meditate to sleep. Then tomorrow I’ll set my timer to go off every ten minutes to remind myself to go back within. Slow down. Become aware. Allow the ego to die. Let it go. Let the “self” die. Be Who I Am.

Because I can’t take the suffering any more. 

Just a Moment

Do you ever have a moment where it feels 

Life is redundant

What am I doing

Who cares

Words on a screen

Time passing by

None of it matters

But you have to do it anyway 

Drag yourself along 

Beg God for help

Empty

Alone

You think of some way to keep going

So you can survive the Now

Intolerable at best

Dread

Unsatisfying for the most part

Except for intermittent breaths

Of gratitude 

But too far and few between

What does that even mean anyway

The road is long

I’m walking slow

Pulling a wagon with two kids in it

And looking ahead more than I look at them

Food, shelter, warmth, rest

Hopefully they get plenty of joy

Even if I’m sucked dry of it

Trying to keep them alive and happy

I should be so thankful

To give all of myself 

By myself 

A complete failure at relationships 

They’ve all ended 

I’m not enough

Except I pretend God loves me

Act as if

When really I’m not special at all

One among many 

No different

Not unique

And no one cares

A life that doesn’t matter

We all move on

Everyone is just a memory

Unless they’re with you

You’ll have to tell me what that’s like

Although you’re likely ungrateful, too

You’re no different either

Not special

Not unique 

No one has any real value

In the grand scheme of things.

Him

It never matters who “he” is,

I always miss “him”,

Until I have “him” again,

And then,

When I do,

“He” won’t be enough,

Because I’m not enough,

And since I’m not enough,

No one else ever will be.

Winter is Coming

Having my daughter with me is really my favorite thing (and my son, too, of course).

She just fell asleep on me while watching “A Bug’s Life”. In the movie, a group of gang-banging grasshoppers force a colony of ants to fork over their harvest each year, and this year they decide to be especially mean, doubling their order. So, the colony’s mad scientist, Flik, who is usually making a mess of things, comes up with a way to save the day. He volunteers himself to go on a trek to find a troupe of bigger bugs to hopefully help the ant colony fend off their foes - but the bugs he finds are circus bugs, not fighters. They think he’s hiring them to come put on a show, and neither party know the real truth until much later, when it’s just about “go time” with the grasshoppers. Flik, the colony inventor, still manages to come up with an ingenious plan using his skills and smarts, and of course, it all works out in the end.

And isn’t that just what life seems to be about - problem-solving? We’re hungry, we have to eat. We’re tired, we have to sleep. We’re cold, fix that. Dirty, fix that. Bored, fix that. Broke, fix that. Lonely, horny, sad, angry...accept, change, or suffer. Over and over, day in, day out, ad infinitum.

Until last year, one of my “problems” had always been an oppressive, angry alcoholic who wanted more from me than I could give. It’s no wonder I still keep trying to be “rescued”. A 28-year pattern isn’t going to change overnight, so I’m gonna cut myself some slack on this one. 

I am no longer living with an oppressor, so that problem’s finally been solved. No more grasshoppers - check. But my colony of three is a small one, and I’m the only one sowing and reaping, here. So, it’s time to get creative and come up with a new harvest plan - and fast.

Winter is coming.

Meanwhile, I’m grateful for what I’ve got - and for what I’ve not.