“The memory of God comes to the quiet mind. It cannot come where there is conflict, for a mind at war against itself remembers not eternal gentleness…..
The death of God, if it were possible, would be your death….There is no war; only the madness that the Will of God can be attacked and overthrown. You may identify with this belief, but never will it be more than madness. And fear will reign in madness, and will seem to have replaced love there.” ACIM- The Irreconcilable Beliefs.
“So, what you’re saying is, I have to love my ego…to death?” Me in a conversation with Him.
I once walked 3.5 miles, barefoot in order to ground my soul by putting the soles of my feet to the ground. It was one of the best days of my life. I emerged from that trail a more revealed me. Not different mind you- more. Exposed. Determined. And yet, I fell prey again to the Queen.
In retrospect I can see now that it has only taken me weeks- perhaps many weeks, but still JUST weeks, to come up for air. It didn’t take me weeks to see that I was in trouble…that took days, but the battle, the struggle to surrender and comprehend, to understand, to logic the ever loving shit out of it so that my tiny little lizard brain could make sense of it and finally give way to the path of my heart…that took weeks. Horrible, pain filled, desperate, if I didn’t know any better- would be, regrettable, weeks. Knees to the ground, begging, weeks.
Battling the ego, The Queen, never works. I know this as sure as I am sitting here typing that, staring into my own eyes in the reflection of my computer screen. I know this. But the ego knows there is only one way to survive- to fight. To wage war. To succumb to peace would be to not exist….and then who would I be? Exactly. Who would I be?
I’d be the one who knows that what I see is merely a reflection. I’d be nothing and everything. I’d be in and not of. I’d have no reason to fight and that would be the reason to be in and of itself. And these things, I know. Thank God, I know.
I tried to kill God and madness ensued. I separated so far from the Dynamic Duo…and learned- really learned…though not enough to NOT do it again I suppose, that separating from It, from Them, from Him, from whatever you want to call it…is the death of self.
“The memory of God comes to the quiet mind.”
My mind had to shut down. I really believe that God shut me down. I would say, no- I will not listen to another book…and He would say, Here- listen to this. I would say, no- I will not dig that up…and He would say, Here, I have two shovels. I would say, I will not be a victim and ask for help! I am better than that, them, it, etc…and He would say, I am is the name of God and I would never start a sentence that way. I am the help that will guide you to the help you need, now call that number and get some. I would scream the most horrid obscenities and insults and God would wait until I was done and then hold me as I cried because we both knew there was nowhere else to go. No one else to need. Gently he rocks me and says, of all the things and places and people who you will put in your life to fill a void that you know doesn’t really exist, you will be empty until you rest here in this love that is within you. I am. All that I need, I am. I am love, God is love and I am god. Little g, Big G, but it is all Love.
“It cannot come where there is conflict, for a mind at war against itself remembers not eternal gentleness…..”
I have spent a few weeks now surrendering myself without surrendering much at all, the exception being what He could pry from my closed fists. He would reach, I would step forward, He would put out a hand, I would punch Him. I’ve read often in this little faith crisis that God is big. That’s good because I often believe that I’m six foot tall and bullet proof- without drinking. I’ve also read that because we can do no wrong in His eyes, forgiveness is moot- save the heart wrenching, soul shattering, harder than hell concept that since we created sin ourselves, now we have to create forgiveness of ourselves too. It’s a hard battle, searching within ourselves for something that we have already been given because something else never existed. The thought makes my lizard brain squeal in agony. I have been, often still am, but desire not to be- at war with myself. I long for the eternal gentleness.
“The death of God, if it were possible, would be your death….There is no war; only the madness that the Will of God can be attacked and overthrown. You may identify with this belief, but never will it be more than madness. And fear will reign in madness, and will seem to have replaced love there.”
My madness is the Queen. She completely believes that who I Am can and will be overthrown. And that bitch is crazy. There is a crazy woman in my head. But not in my heart. Fear has been reigning here. Reining me in, hanging me high and dry…leveling me down to the ground and rubbing my face in a pile of shit called “please kill me.” The irony of wanting to die is this- we are dying. We say, Please kill me and we can’t see that we are, in fact, starving to death. Dying. Bleeding all over the place and everyone within leaking distance. We are projecting, manifesting and conjuring more death and blood than we can even fathom…but we are doing it. I say, God! Just kill me! And he says, Honey, you’re doing a fine job on your own, but since you can never die, this is going to take a while. I’ll be here waiting.
And so God waits…but not really. He more like, knows, which we interpret as waiting. The impatience we feel to be “better” and “get it right” that’s us. The “you’ll never be worth it” is the ego. The inability to quit, that’s God. Sometimes when I let myself, I find comfort in knowing that the inability to quit is within me…and so too then must be God…but sometimes, most times, I come out swinging and cussing.
“There is only love” has been said so many times by so many people, it’s hard to say who said it first, but my money is on God. My struggle with this concept is of soul shaking, soul dismantling, proportion. Only. Love. One thing. One. Love.
As I write that I realize that I have an argument, probably as old as my time on this planet this go around, to support the exact opposite of that statement. Love? Bah, I say. I have proof to the contrary…but not really. Have you ever analyzed your truths? Really sat down and thought about what they are and what you believe? Have you ever pondered that your list of 1000 truths may in fact be a list of three, repeated over and over again? I am there. pondering. The truth is, I can’t say that love isn’t the answer. I rarely try that. People in my life, rarely try that…but lately, sometimes, without warning, love will step in and low and behold….That shit works.
Driving the other day, talking to the Big Guy, it hit me…So what you’re saying is, you want me to love it to death? You want me to take it out in the field, love it to death and bury it there? This is turn the other cheek? Fab. Love is all there is. I don’t even know how to do that…except, I think I do.
Love is often quiet. It’s like the sneak attack. The stealth jet from nowhere. The ninja in the darkness of your moments…It’s quiet. Silent really. It’s when you do nothing. At first, because you don’t know what else to do- just that what you’ve always done isn’t working. If you yell a lot, when you feel the urge, you don’t. It throws everyone off their game, except God, who I imagine sitting at my dinner table, listening to me argue with whomever and then when I go silent, he looks over his paper and smiles. Like a proud father does. That warmth I feel is the smile…because it’s my smile too. To kill God is to kill self…so I imagine that to love God works the same way….
Let’s end here…right where we begin.