I used to think

             I used to think life is random, coincidence, spotted with agonies to put up with it, as stoics.  Not wired as a stoic, I was told to quit whining.  If stoicism was not to be wired into me, perhaps it could be commanded into me.  But that never worked. 

I used to think the divine force stars in the Bible was an entity called “God,” also stoic, who made us and walked away, except from his favorites.  Based on the stories the Bible records, I saw this “God” to be like a teacher with pets.  This God has favorites, and when his favorites squabble with their neighbors, this God does not break up the fight, does not train them to live in harmony together, does not serve as a neutral arbitrator.  No, this God, joins the fight, fights for his favorites, and even commands them to kill their neighbors.  From this, I used to think the divine force is petty, unfair, untrustworthy, and even cruel, an upside-down Robin Hood who gives to the greedy and steals from the kind. 

I used to think I must take life into my own hands.  If the divine is untrustworthy, life is random, and I’m not a stoic, then calling out to the heavens is futile and I will take charge.  I consulted experts, and many agreed life is random, but it has patterns, trends, and statistical probabilities.  If I study the patterns and probabilities and control this mostly random, yet statistically probable life, I can reduce my chances of suffering.  But suffering still came, often in the form of ever-evolving, yet ever present disturbances of mental health.  I sought the doctors for help, and they prescribed medications, which sometimes made me feel worse. 

            I used to think my belief in the God who picks favorites and abandons everyone else and my mental health disturbances were separate.  I used to think they have nothing in common. 

            Finally, I challenged my mind, my thoughts, and my belief that calling to the heavens is futile.  I cried to the heavens and screamed for help. 

            Then, miracles from the heavens poured as a grand waterfall of showers upon me.  My little children, both of them together, saw angels, with my older, four, describing them and telling me where they were, and my younger, one-and-a-half, nodding, pointing to the same place, and clapping in delight.  I began to hear the angels, called them my whispers of mystery, and over the course of many years, they transformed my mind and my thoughts.  They whispered their mysteries to me and then confirmed them through synchronicities, scriptures, the natural world, and surprise encounters with sages who understood.  They introduced me to the divine forces in the heavenly realms and in the world within, deep into the deepest waters of my heart.  

            They unveiled a divine force altogether different and astonishing in its Order and Harmony.  They revealed the unity of all things, and they unfolded the veil of my illusions.  Through the signs in the natural world, synchronicities, miracles, and their whispers of mystery, they showed me life is not random.  They whispered, if I watch these signs and search within, into the deepest waters of my heart, where, unlike in the surface waters of my heart, the winds and tides and storms are distant, and where the waters are calm and constant – from there, they will guide me in protection.  They whispered to be patient, to let go, to surrender, and to watch for their signs.  And they led me out of my terrors, my anxieties, my mental health disturbances.  They led me on a path that counters my culture, counters my religion, and counters what I used to think. 

            The set me free.  No more medications.  No more anxiety.  Healing for me came not from drugs.  It came from from reframing the divine, reframing life, reframing myself, and discovering my divine guidance from the deepest waters of my heart.

© 2024 by karina.  All rights reserved.  Please use only with permission and/or a link to this blog post.

Mysteries without Answers

             After a decade of debrainwashing, I hit an impasse.  “Debrainwashing” is what I called that process of lifting, layer by layer, the conditioning I had been taught by my family, education, religion, and society at large.  In some way to and to some extent, I was finding each layer false.  Whatever I had been taught was not, in fact, true.  I had fallen into the rabbit hole, taken the Matrix red pill, and the more untruths I uncovered, the more I found.  I had hit that point that every genuine truth-seeker eventually arrives: is there anything we can know to be true?

            If you take any paradigm to its natural conclusion, you hit its delusion, its opposite.  You will prove it wrong with your own paradigm.  My heroine of Just like Eve took the training she had been given by her church to its conclusion and exposed the lie based on its own teaching.  Although her church condemned Eve, Jasmine read the Bible the way her church taught her to read it and found Eve heroic.

Physicists are doing the same thing.  While probing the mysteries of science, they are undermining their own laws.  Their own tools and methods are proving their science to be false. 

In Why Fish Don’t Exist, Lulu Miller shows the same for the scientist she follows, David Starr Jordan.  He had faithfully followed Darwin’s scientific philosophy, faced despair, and only conquered his despair by discounting his own philosophy, yet not admitting it.  Taking his own philosophy to its conclusion, he had declared “Nature no respecter of persons,” yet he overcame his despair with an opposite manifesto: “That which is in man is greater than all that he can do.”  Of this Miller says, “It was the kind of lie he promised he would never tell himself.”  Later, she demonstrates that Jordan undermined Darwin’s philosophy when he, Jordan, declared certain persons “unfit,” even advocating for their sterilization.  Darwin, however, had adamantly insisted this is Nature’s job.  Not man’s.  Darwin warned men not to interfere with Nature.  Jordan, a devoted follower of Darwin, did just that.

My own truth-seeking under the paradigm I had been taught also led me to its natural conclusion.  I had “wrestled” for years with the “God” I had been taught, particularly “his” cruelty that extended even to commanding genocide.  In my moment of emptiness, like Nietzsche, I declared this “God” “dead.”  Although the death of this “God” was a relief, I was now left with the greatest of mysteries: What is the realm just beyond our senses?  Is there an Intelligence within it? Does this Intelligence care about us, in our world?

My impasse into emptiness was mirrored by my external life. Within two years (2021-23), a mere blink, I had lost my marriage, my career, my two kids off to college, and even our two cats, the first to my former husband and the second to my daughter.  It was also during this blink that I left the church and the “God” it taught, though continued to follow its teacher.  Just has my inner life had morphed into emptiness, so did my outer life into an empty home, no longer a teacher, wife or mom with kids and cats at home.

My blank slate drew me into discoveries new yet old, ancient, in fact, that had lain deep within my own intuition.  Having studied the wisdom of other traditions, I was aware of the ancient maxim, As Above, so Below, along with its corollary, expressed, for example, in Saying 22 in the Gospel of Thomas, to “make the inner as the outer,” or that our internal self is reflected by our external life.  My own life demonstrated this to be true.

Meanwhile, I was finding synchronicities everywhere, a remarkable universal harmony among all things, and that what I sow I also reap.  It often comes many years later and in ways I never would have imagined, but in some way, sometimes happily and sometimes sorrowfully, in my own lifetime, I reap what I sow.

Still, mysteries without answers remain.  Maybe I reap what I sow, but does everyone? I’ve longed to see it confirmed, yet meet another impasse.  Bullies keep bullying and the bullied keep getting kicked.  How do wealthy narcissists who exploit others to make themselves great again and again continue to win in the game of life? 

True, occasionally, some rich bastard gets his due, locked up for some white collar crime, with his mug shot plastered over the evening news, and the rest of us celebrate that this crook who had stolen from thousands finally got what was coming to him.

But the story, reporting the conviction of this crook, masks all that’s behind it.  Who are the crook’s friends?  Superiors?  Colleagues?  Was he just a fall guy?  For a much bigger empire?  A pawn of a mafia?  My longing for revenge upon the hateful persists. 

Then there are the kind, lovable, oppressed, exploited, abused ones who have done nothing to receive such abuse, then die a cruel death.  Again, no answers. 

I think about the little boy in a favorite story, who stands amidst a vast mass of starfish washed upon the seashore, throwing a few, one by one, back into the ocean.  A passerby, perhaps a teenager who’s been stomping on the poor starfish to his twisted delight, mocks the boy. “You can’t save them all.”  The boy picks up another, tosses it into the ocean and says, “But I can save that one.”  This little boy will reap what he sows, right?  Some day, someone might save him too?  And what about the teen who’s been gleefully torturing other starfish?  Will he also reap what he sows?

I wonder whether I can’t see the “reaping” for the people I find hateful because I find them hateful.  Seeking vengeance, perhaps I’m not intended to enjoy the chance to see them get their due.

Could the Universe be testing us?  Are we given exceptions to the sowing and reaping law to keep the mystery alive?  We see exceptions, point to them, and say to ourselves, “It’s not true.  What we sow, we don’t reap.  Look at them.”  So what do we do?  We start sowing bad seeds to our own delight at the expense of other people, because, why not? 

Given that we all intuitively believe what goes around comes around, we’re challenged with the exceptions.  Will we follow our intuition and try to sow kindness?  Or, will we be tempted to follow the exceptions that tell us it doesn’t matter, that we can do whatever we want?

With plenty of reason to doubt, many quit bothering to try.  Others persist in the hope for a reward and get disappointed when the “return” seems elusive or takes a long time.

That’s me.  Staying true to my intuition of its truth, I’ve tried to live it, and often, the “reward” comes barely in time to avoid a crisis.  Could this be because I’ve expected one?  If I were more like the boy who casts a starfish back into the ocean just because he can “save that one,” would the return appear more readily?  Perhaps to me, the Universe has shrugged, “Yeah, yeah, you sowed, so you’ll also reap, because that is how the Universe works, but you since you did it for a reward, you’ll have to wait for it.  You’ll have to wait so long, you’ll doubt it.  Then it can be known whether you’re willing to sow even if you don’t reap.”

Imagine a friend of the boy, also casting back starfish, who hears the boy’s reply that he can “save that one” and, in sheer delight, pipes in, “And it’s fun to throw them back!” 

These two boys aren’t saving starfish because they think one day they’ll also be saved.  They are sending the starfish back in a moment of joy.  They delight in saving starfish.  Maybe we also can delight that there are some mysteries without answers.

 

© 2024 by Karina.  All rights reserved.  Please use with permission and/or a link to this blog post.