I rarely wish I could live my life over or go back in time. When these moments do occur, it mostly seems to involve a sense of – having my lived experience available earlier in life.
We seem to want our youth back for various reasons – health, well-being, beauty, innocence, wonderment, etc. There is another group of us that want to go back in time to play the stock market, buy real estate, have better and more sex, and a host of other things.
In general, the egoic mind will want to return to the past with the mind’s attained knowledge to continue our quest for pleasure and satisfaction. Wishing for a chance to bring our lived experience into the past is another manifestation of the ego’s love affair with control – trying to control and direct our experience.
Some may argue, that being able to relive our lives with our adult knowledge and lived experience is about living a better more authentic life – wanting to live a life with less pain and suffering for us and the people we crossed paths with. But really, it’s all about us and our fantasy of grandiosity.
If we really believed our current knowledge and experience would make a huge difference in our past and the course of our lives – we would be living that knowledge and lived wisdom right now, in present time. We’d be so busy freeing ourselves from the chains of the past in the fullness of the present, that our mind would not be wishing for anything other than right now.
This is the time of year we often hear – ’tis the season to be jolly. I like to think of it as the season to be noble.
The etymology of noble:
c.1225, “illustrious, distinguished, worthy of honor or respect,” from O.Fr. noble, from L. nobilis “well-known, famous, renowned, of superior birth,” earlier gnobilis, lit. “knowable,” from gnoscere “to come to know,” from PIE base *gno- (see know). The prominent Roman families, which were “well known,” provided most of the Republic’s public officials. Meaning “distinguished by rank, title, or birth” is first recorded 1297. Sense of “having lofty character, having high moral qualities” is from 1601. The noble gases (1902) so called for their inactivity or interness; a use of the word that had been applied in M.E. to precious stones, metals, etc., of similar quality (c.1390), from the sense of “having admirable properties” (c.1305).
Nobility has gotten a bad rap over the centuries as less-than-noble humans inherited the banner of nobility through birthright. When I think of the nobility of the soul, the points I resonate with in the above are:
worthy of honor
knowable
high moral qualities
having admirable properties
Nobility, for me, carries a high sense of value, a sense of being above pettiness and the mundane, a sense of regality (of the king) and a great sense of generosity.
Generosity is the quality that makes the season noble. The etymology of generous:
1588, from M.Fr. généreux (fem. généreuse), from L. generosus “of noble birth,” from genus (gen. generis) “race, stock” (see genus). Originally “of noble birth,” secondary senses of “unselfish” and “plentiful” were both present in Fr. and perhaps in Latin.
For me, generosity has a sense of openness in it that allows the richness and depth of personal value to flow into present experience. One of the sweet mysteries of the soul is its depth and breadth of treasure.
As I walk thorugh the mall, the bookstore, the restaurant or go through my ordinary day is this Holiday Season, I witness a lot of nobility & poverty. Regardless of our circumstances, we need not lack generosity or nobility.
I’m in a restaurant and ask the wait-person for something. When it’s delivered, I say – thank you. The wait-person’s response – No Problem.
I’m in the coffee shop for my morning cup. When it arrives – same routine. Thank You. No Problem.
I’m in the electronics store. A sales associate helps me with some information – thank you – no problem.
What’s up this no-problem response?
What ever happened to – My Pleasure?
When I ask a waiter, a sales associate or a business owner for assistance, I don’t expect it to be a problem for them to provide the service which they are being paid to provide.
No problem is one of those habitual, unconscious responses that on the surface seems positive, but really carries a subtle negative association in the mind.
No problem??? Is it a problem serving me? Is it a problem getting me the information I need to purchase a new laptop?
On the other hand, when I ask for the Dijon mustard and the wait-person provides it with a – my pleasure – I feel like my experience is a personal concern of this person. I feel welcomed, seen and considered.
The challenge of writing this seems immense, beyond my ability to put it into a coherent stream of thought. I am motivated/inspired to write and wonder, why? What sparked this impulse?
It is autumn. Leaves are turning brilliant. Beauty is everywhere, always. Today, yellow, gold, red and orange blend with the shades of green she has worn for many months now. Is it the change of seasons that rekindles the journey into the heart of darkness?
Perhaps it is the fear, panic and depression that is gripping many. Unemployment, investment losses and economic woe beset us from all sides. Is the ubiquitous cynicism getting to me?
No matter, the dismal, dark shades of despondency and hopelessness are arising and my soul is afire, blazing with love and beauty.
How is this possible?
Whatever Happened to the Cynic?
Where did the cynic go? I’ve been cynical for as long as I can remember. I recall an exploration into my cynic. It was maybe 8 years ago. That rascal lived in a world view that had an atmosphere like 18th century London – skies dark, gray and sooty. A haggard and hackneyed self suffering the dismal and dreary.
Don’t get me wrong, this view was not conscious 24/7. But it was there, in the velvet underground of my unconscious sapping energy and blurring my vision. Without even knowing it, the quality of my life was being diminished.
Today, I notice the cynic is like leaded glass. I can see the light coming through and it is the light that I resonate with not the opacity.
That Pain is Our Best Friend
My best friend was beautiful. When we met, the connection was deep and immediate. The type of experience that gives the notion of reincarnation a strong foundation to stand on. The freedom in the friendship was beyond our combined imaginations. Acceptance and appreciation were in every interaction and the quiet delight in our friendship only grew though we lived thousands of miles apart.
Her experience with ovarian cancer, was challenging and life-enhancing. Though her body withered and suffered both she and her body became more and more radiant and translucent. When she died, all hell broke loose in me.
Oh, that pain. I believe it takes us all by surprise – our capacity to feel pain and loss. There were many, many moments of remembering and love and appreciation AND then the pain, a grief and grieving to a depth of self unknown to me. I came to understand that the depth of pain spoke to the depth of the love.
I became curious about that pain, about why it seemed to be easier to stay with the pain than the love. I came to see that my self, who I knew myself to be historically, could stay intact with the pain. I could suffer with the pain.I could lament, and mourn, feel loss and devastation – the ruin of my heart. But, the love, when freed from the constraints of a remembering mind was of a whole different dimension.
With the love, I glowed. And the glow became a radiance. And soon I was not there, there was only radiance and radiance is more of what I really am than this person writing these words, the mind that knows the words, or the body that can be seen and felt. Love will disappear us and though that sounds lovely, it is anything but to a self that wants to survive, choose and control.
The Curious Experience of Self-hate
Before discovering the cynic or the transformational power of pain, there was the death wish. Times were were not bad, there was no time. There was just the endless pit of shit that I seemed to have gotten myself into and the hopelessness of life ever being anything else but a pile of shit. Of course, this was because I was seeing and experiencing myself as a pile of shit.
Self-hatred is a very powerful force. Rarely do we allow ourselves to explore self-hatred and understandably so. Without proper support and guidance we might act out the self-hatred and damage or kill the object of that hatred – ourselves.
It was a curious experience for me to be shaving one morning and have a suicidal thought pass through my mind. I grew up in a family that had a lot of judgment around suicide. In fact, there was a lot of judgment around a lot of things and very little curiosity about anything real. We preferred the known to the not-known. It feels more secure to believe we know. Sadly, most of what is known and taught is limited, distorted and disorganized safely within the comfortable, familiar realm of ignorance.
That suicidal thought captured my imagination. I began to dwell on it. And soon, I discovered myself going into the heart of darkness – not a very safe place for someone in such a vulnerable state with a lot of self-hatred running amok.
I was having a very interesting experience. In a way, I was two people. One of me was a curious observer, a me that really wanted to know more about these powerful dark forces assailing the other me. The other me, was the part that identified with the self-hate messages. I really am a pile of shit. I’m bad. I’m evil. I fall far below worthless on the human scale of value.
Having been so defended against my feelings for so long, it’s not surprising that I soon found myself like Marlow winding down a river into the heart of terror. The stream of self-hatred seem to flow like a river following the force of gravity and the contours of the earth as it makes it way inexorably to the ocean which annihilates it through absorption.
That was where that part of me knew it was heading – gravity and contour – flowing to self-destruction. The part of me observing all of this understood how people can get lost in this river of self-hate and pulled/flow into annihilation.
What happens if I feel the self-hatred fully and don’t act out the self-destructiveness inherent in it? A person with some humility and common sense would have help and support for this process. I really am blessed to be able to report back to you.
We live in a world of incredible beauty and potential. Mostly when we experience joy, happiness, love, majesty, and the wonderful – we associate it with something external – some event, some happening, some action or choice. This is not what is really going on.
This is one of reality’s most open secrets. What is happening is much simpler, but even more mysterious. What is real exists to be known. Life reveals. It’s not our experience that matters, but the experience of our experience.
Some will say lack of self-worth; others projection; others self-hate.
Self-rejection is a function of the mind
The mind is the gate that opens or closes, thereby allowing or preventing direct experience. Any action of the mind that blocks direct experience is self-rejecting; conversely, any action of the mind that allows direct experience is self-accepting. – John Ruskan
Any serious exploration of self-rejection needs to include:
An exploration into the “self” being rejected as well as an open-ended inquiry into the whole notion of self.
An exploration into the ego’s fundamental dynamic of rejection. Rejection is at the core of all ego activity.
Every internal action involves some kind of rejection of our present state, our actual reality. And there is a deeper consequence to this attitude of rejection: By rejecting what is so for us in the present moment, we are rejecting ourselves. – A.H. Almaas
Again, I am confronted by a person who seems to have zero capacity to self-observe or any interest in exploring their world view. There is a lot of conflict in this person’s life at present.
Over the last couple of years, financial stress seems to have activated primal survival issues. Fear-based living is dominating this person’s life and awareness.
It’s a sad and tragic situation. This human being is locked into a private hell where all the problems are outside, all the change needs to take place in others and in world circumstances. There isn’t one iota of contemplation around the possibility of personal responsibility, accountability, projection or distortion.
It makes me aware of how difficult the journey can be. As I see this person alienating and hurting others while maintain a stance of – I’m the nicest person I know – I marvel at how blind we can be.
Even when a person has the capacity for self-observation and a willingness to want to know the truth about themselves, it can be very challenging. We all have fundamental negative beliefs about ourselves that need to be brought into consciousness – into the light of day, into the possibility of transcendental awareness.
Today, I revealed my deepest, darkest secret to my teacher. I’ve had a student/teacher relationship with David for over 12 years. I didn’t think I would ever bring this situation up with anyone, but there I was marveling at me opening up my mouth to reveal this very painful place in me.
As you might assume, this place is full of excruciating shame and judgment.
Why, I asked myself, am I choosing to bring this up? Very simple answer – freedom. My soul longs to unwind, to be free of all contractions, inhibitions and limitations.
How is it possible to discover and engage these places that hold us hostage to our deepest fears – love of truth. The heart and soul love the truth. And loving the truth fuels the journey to freedom and intimacy.
Longing for Youth & Experience
What’s the 
Again, I am confronted by a person who seems to have zero capacity to