delara, interrupted

I just found this poem I wrote quite a while ago:

in waking, i sleep --
impotent, lifeless body.

in awakening, i see things i never dreamed of
and then i dream of things i'd like to see --

to be.

and i become.

It reminded me of this concept I've been tossing around in my head lately - the idea of co-creating my life.

There are huge blocks of time in my life for which I cannot account. It’s not that they never happened, and I have some memory of what was happening generally in my life during those times. But I am fuzzy on the details to the point of feeling strongly as though I was sleepwalking through those days, months… years even. Sad.

I feel sad about those years because I feel like I missed out. I feel like I was absent from my own life – like I was missing my own birthday party. If there was an emotion to be felt, I didn’t get to feel it. If there was a dream to be had, it escaped my subconscious. If there was a new thought, understanding or epiphany nascent in my mind, it remained stifled. And I remained stagnant.

Why was that so? Why was I asleep? I just can’t fathom it. I was connected spiritually, was I not? I was praying every day, I was attending holy day commemorations, I was actively engaged in service to humanity, I was “doing my work” on myself and in my life. Yet, I’m not sure who was in the driver’s seat at that time. So, what’s the story?

There is a quote from The Hidden Words that resonates strongly for me:

O MAN OF TWO VISIONS! Close one eye and open the other. Close one to the world and all that is therein, and open the other to the hallowed beauty of the Beloved. (Bahá'u'lláh, The Persian Hidden Words)

What I can say is that we have (er, correction - I have) interesting concepts about what “the world” entails and what is encompassed by “the hallowed beauty.” For so long, I believed that the world only referred to material things, and because I didn’t consider myself to be materialistic (indeed, compared to many I’m not) I thought I was clear of worldly things. And because I was prayerful and trying so hard to align my life with my understanding of the spiritual and social laws of this day, I thought I was clearly focused on the hallowed beauty.

But… the world entails so much more than materialism alone. In fact, one of the deadliest forms of materialism is our lack of belief in our true nature – our spiritual nature. After all, we are, at our core, spiritual beings. It’s what separates us from the animal kingdom. I am continually amazed at how often we forget who we really are and what perfect reflections of “the hallowed beauty” we can be when we actively keep the dust off the mirror.

What is that saying? “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” Isn’t dust, then, part of “this world?” Indeed.

I don’t know exactly when it was born in my life, but somewhere along the way I caked on thick layers of dust on my spiritual mirror. I developed the belief that I was not allowed to be happy, that it was forbidden for me in some way. I also believed I was not good enough. In almost every way, I would always fall short. Even if only in my own mind. These are some pretty persistent layers of dust and are very, very much a part of this world as they do not at all represent the spirit of love that animates the spiritual world and with which we were created.

You know that “footprints in the sand” poem? Yeah, you know it. You’ve seen it engraved on a plaque in someone’s home, on a greeting card given to you during a trying time, or maybe printed as an overlay on a photograph of a beach with waves gently lapping on the shore. As I re-read my poem and reflected on the quote from The Hidden Words, I thought of the footprints and I thought about what it meant to be awake, present and actively engaged in walking my life’s path. I thought about what it might mean to be able to see, at every turn, two sets of footprints in the sand behind me.

This past weekend, I visited a very special place called the Stone Door in the South Cumberland State Park area. I have always felt a strong connection to nature and a sense of inner peace whenever I immerse myself in it. This sojourn into nature was different somehow. I was giddy and energetic. Every breath I took seemed to refresh and revive me internally. I felt… alive. Alive in that way a seven year old feels alive when they’re running at top speed through a grassy meadow on a sunny day. And I felt present, awake, serene in my trust in God, active in my consciousness of every precious moment I was living.

I felt as though I was walking hand in hand with God and together we were laying the bricks for my life’s path, co-creating a tapestry that reflects the delicate balance between actively engaging my will and submitting it to His.

When I envision that beach on which I am walking with the Divine Creator, I imagine walking hand in hand, side by side – like a little girl holding the hand of her Father and laughing with excitement and élan.