autumn twilight doesn’t describe what I choose to write anymore. I think that’s why posts have been so sparse.
I’m a very different person than I was when I began this blog. And so it is time to retire it. To those of you who are listening, don’t worry, there will be something new and shiny very soon. Thank you all for reading.
I will not be junking the content here on autumn-twilight ever, but in the near future I’ll be taking the site off-line, once my new blog is up and running and stable.
I have all of my posts saved in a number of formats, and many of the better ones will find their way back to the internet in due time.
All my love,
sharing the gift
I don’t know what it will be.
Or how big.
But it is time for a change.
I feel weighted down, mired in unhelpful habits, in distractions. I feel like there is little I can change in my life.
What we feel is not always reality, often not in fact.
It is time for a change.
There are days, weeks, months, when I feel weak. When I feel as though I have no option other than failure. Recently this has been a powerful movement in me. The feeling that I am inadequate.
Those of you who have read autumn twilight over the years will know that this is not a new feeling for me. I have often questioned if I am worthy. The only real answer I have about my worth is that I am to close to judge it. I am here, and I have my gifts. That must be enough.
Recently I’ve turned my eyes inward more often than not. It’s hard to look at yourself and not like what you see. Or at least not like everything you see. The lesson is that you accept what you dislike, or you transform it. I’ve never been one to easily accept my own shortcomings, so I am left with transformation.
But it is so fucking hard. Forgive me the whining, but that’s how I feel this morning. It’s so fucking hard. I want nothing more than to throw myself back into bed and do nothing.
And that’s how I’ve been feeling for weeks now. Too hard to try. Too hard to do anything but lie down and feel miserable about it. Too hard to even think about. To be harsh with myself for a moment, it’s bloody pathetic. I know better.
But even knowing better, occasionally I find myself lost in samsara, induldging my self-pity, wallowing in materialism, and knowing inside just how bad it is for me.
Eventually the addiction loses it’s appeal, and the dream fades. I find myself shaking it off, banishing the illusions of comfort and satisfaction. I see myself in the mirror and cry. I awaken finally, and I turn my eyes back to transformation.
I don’t particularly like the cycle. I don’t like finding myself lost in the dream. I don’t know how to stop it though, and I don’t know that I’m supposed to. One thing I’ve learned is that if we’re meant to help other people we are often subject to trials that prepare us for those who will need us.
I don’t mean to imply a guiding force of fate here, just an understanding that no suffering or challenge goes by without giving us experience and knowledge to be used later. Whether we realize and grok that experience is another story, for another time.
So that is where I am this morning. Waking up. Feeling sad and hopeful. Crying a little. Willing. To face my trials. To see the world as it is. To challenge maya.
Share the Gift.
Last night was the full moon. My teacher, and friend, Coriander gave me a message from a vision he had. I’ve been sitting with it as best I can since then. It’s not a complex message (although as with many things, the setting which inspired it, and the surrounding discussion was very complex.)
He said, “I know it’s hard to see it sometimes, but everything you need is right there, you just need to reach out and grasp it.”
These are words I’ve needed to hear for some time now. It’s a truth about where I am in my life that I sort of know already, but that I haven’t found the right words for.
It’s frustrating. I know that it’s true, but reaching out and grasping it still seems so completely impossible. I think part of the trouble is that I’m conflicted about what it is I want in my life. There are so many avenues open to me right now. My life is full of possibility. I know that this is a wonderful place to be. I know that I should be grateful for the blessing of these options. But right now I wish I didn’t have so many options.
I think that’s part of why I’ve spent so much of the last year wrestling with, learning to understand, my submissiveness. I crave, more than anything, not to have to make these choices. It would be much easier if someone else could make them for me. If someone would step in and clear away the open plain and show me a road.
This is a trial I am going through. It’s not an instant of time, or a defining moment. The trembling I experience whenever I think about throwing myself down a path is exhausting. The fear of choosing, this terror I experience when thinking that perhaps I’m choosing the wrong path, is exhausting. It’s wearing and debilitating. I’m spending all my energy just trying to buy myself the time I think I need to make a choice. Meanwhile the world just keeps chugging on ahead. Some possibilities vanish and others open up. The field remains full of options.
Complicating this is an understanding that I don’t have to choose one thing. I can choose many things. I can be the guy who seems to do everything, who has his hand in every pot. I can be an author and engineer and priest and performer and teacher and poet and mystic. In fact, it’s not really a choice. I AM all of these things. I don’t have the ability to choose not to be one. But choosing to give myself to the pursuit of all these things is it’s own terror.
I fear being consumed by them. I fear that if I give myself up to the work I will get lost in it and never find my way out. I fear if I am all these things I’ll only ever be average at any of them.
It’s odd for me to be so lucid about fear while the moon is almost full. But when else should I see these things I suppose.
I think the truth is that the choice is already made, and I’m just afraid to admit it. It hurts so much to think about it, but there was never any choice but to chase my heart, wherever it leads. I don’t need to find my muse, or court inspiration. So long as I’m chasing my heart, moving ahead towards dreams, giving myself in each moment to wherever my passion lies, to what needs me, then I will be in alignment with myself.
And that’s my wisdom for this moon. Give yourself to what you’re doing at any moment. Give yourself to purpose, to passion, to truth. Give yourself to honesty. Allow your community, your family, to devour all you have to offer. Despite the fear, allow yourself to be grokked. Let the world drink deeply of the chalice of your heart, let them be affected by the blazing spirit that you are. Open your eyes and let yourself be seen.
Share the gift. Defy the death.
Find the strength to bare yourself to Binah, and begin to shine.
The truth is this: Nobody suceeds until they try.
We are all just potential greatness, waiting to be realized. We are solar fire captured by the thinest veil of stardust.
The truth is this: Almost none of us choose to try. Most of us wait for the right moment. We either hope for something miraculous to happen, or we prepare ourselves, day in and day out, for the absolute right opportunity to shine. The right moment to step up and be who we are.
The pretty lie we tell ourselves, is that this preparation is vital. That it is strategic. The lie lets us hold on to the hope that our dreams will be realized, if we just prepare a little more, or wait a little longer.
The truth is this: You can not prepare yourself to be great. Greatness happens because you act. It happens because you act consistently, because you act in congruence with your will and the will of the Divine.
Greatness does not come from waiting.
Ask yourself, what are you waiting for? What is holding you back? Why aren’t you shining?
The world is your playground. It is your jungle-gym. And yet you sit in your home, listening to your pretty little lie.
Share the Gift.
There is magic in uncertainty. It is the magic of possibility, of personal growth, of transformation.
This is different than what most people think of when they think about magic. The idea of magic, for most people, is one of control. We practice magic because it gives us another avenue of influence, another way of controlling the outcome of a situation. But that’s not always how it works. In fact, that’s, in my opinion, only a tiny portion of what magic is, and more often than not practitioners who are after control find it in one way only to lose it in others.
The magic of uncertainty is the opportunity to demonstrate truth. We all spend most of our lives in a very limited bubble of probable actions. Our personality, character, background, culture, religion, social group, and a hundred other factors define the space of our regular activities. We like to believe that we aren’t limited by these things, but by and large we are.
Uncertainty gives us the opportunity to push those boundaries. To demonstrate something that is real and true, but outside what is expected of us. When the outcome of a situation is uncertain we have a real opportunity to exert effort in a way that we don’t when something is predetermined.
We don’t have to stretch ourselves or work for things that we know are going to happen. The sun is going to rise. Businessmen are going to screw the rest of the world. Religious fanatics will do something fanatical. These are pretty much given. But the uncertainty of a blank white wall in an empty apartment, or the chance to sway public opinion with your words, or a big project at work, is an opportunity to do something unexpected.
That is a very real, very powerful type of magic. There are far fewer things that are truly uncertain than we would expect. Most of our experiences on a daily basis are pretty standard. We may not expect the details, but we know the essential structure of what’s going to happen. This gives us the comforting illusion of a predictable, rational world. It is the things that occur that are wildly outside of expectation, of near certain occurrence, that really give us the opportunity to make changes.
Take advantage of the uncertainties when you encounter them. Look for them. Ask yourself when you see them, how can I use this to make myself better? How can I surprise myself?
Share the gift
I’ve got a lot brewing in my mind tonight. More than I have adequate words to summarize. I’ll not hurt myself trying.
I think what I want to say is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that the world isn’t what I believe it could be. I’m sorry that there is so much suffering in the world. I’m sorry that I have only the limited resources I do, that I can’t simply wave my hand, or enter into fervent prayer, and wash away all that is wrong with the world.
Everyone sees Imbolc as this joyous festival. The time when we get to really start looking forward to all the great things that are coming. We have a chance to start many things anew. To plant new crops. To create new relationships. To get away from the cold that has kept us cooped up. Imbolc is the festival of hope for the future.
But it is also a time to say we’re sorry. To reflect upon our actions. To cleanse ourselves in the snow. To purify our intent. The light is returning, and there is much cause for hope, but the future is not all sunshine and roses. When the spring comes there will still be starving children all around the world. There will still be injustice. And suffering. There will still be people taking advantage of anyone they can.
I believe, deeply, that we are better than these things. I believe no child should suffer enough at the hands of his peers that he takes his own life. I believe that humanity has within it greatness that we hardly ever see. And I believe that we turn away from that greatness because it is different from what we know.
There are more reasons for this than I can hope to illuminate in a compendium, let alone this humble post. I’m sure I can’t truly begin to grasp the magnitude of our aversion to it, but I can see the aversion at work all the time. We don’t allow ourselves our greatnesses. To use Coyle’s words, we don’t allow ourselves to be big enough.
When you see the light returning, don’t see it only giving life to the crops. Let the light show you the shadowy places too. Your own and those around you. Let the returning light reveal our greatness, that we have the power to change, to choose.