That dark place, cavelike, where we fall, lost in the disasters of life – is purely inspirational.
There’s little to do in there but fiddle with the shadowy shapes of your haunted reality to create forms that seem more in line with your true self and desperate attempts to appear rational. Look at the word. “In-spir-ational” – spirit is only partly there and it’s tied up in what you rationalize. (See what I did there? Clever right?)
Rock bottom is full of excuses, most of which point your judging finger of blame back at yourself. Self-blame is an excuse to not love yourself or come to terms with actions and find peace with actions that we “rationalized” ourselves into this sad space.
Panic and fear become our greatest enemies and our greatest allies because once you’ve bottomed out into that cold and lonely place – you either find the spark to crawl out or feel the loss of will to move at all. For you, dear reader, I hope for the former.
The darkness is no place to linger.
So, what is it then that guides us and helps us correct our path when we’re locked, shaking, and unable to budge from the false safety of motionless misery? In my last blog post, Spirit 911, we explored the idea that, in extreme moments where we break and nothing seems unimportant, we become an empty slate and suddenly a message, a guiding spirit seems fantastically real.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had moments weeping alone eyes turned upward to searching for a way, and yes, in those moments something came to my aid. The very description of a tangible “otherness” with messages of comfort is a very real depiction of sudden – albeit unstable and unsustainable – flashes of messages from the whooziwhatits-whicheverwhere that I’ve experienced.
It can be hardcore, guys. Super hardcore. But it’s, mostly, not.
Getting messages from spirit is more often calm and less intense. And, I use the broad and whatchamacallit verbiage intentionally because where we draw our sense of spirit is something we all define differently. It should be. You could call it your higher self, spirit guides, angels, God, or just the complex nature of human psychology and physiology.
(Psychology and physiology, by the way, are the most magical and esoteric, bizarre and philosophical part of spirituality than any wand, crystal, or tarot card I’ve ever seen. Straight up interdimensional, quantum, epigenetic magic. But, I digress.)
Whatever you call it is just a name. I have mine and I’ll share them if you ask. The point is less about what it is and more that you’re listening. You’re curious and searching for a way to be a part of this whole weird, little fiesta we call life in the most wonderful way that you can. Cause happiness is what we’re all after, right? No use saying otherwise.
We. Want. To. Be. Happy. Say it, mean it, believe it.
Of course, that means getting comfortable with being sad and a lot of other things that you should be talking to that guiding spirit about. You’ll find that when you get in touch with it that there’s no judgement (that’s you), there’s always common sense and positive action (that’s it), and there’s never defeated or inflated ego (that’s you). It’s a voice, thought, feeling, or knowing that speaks for your greatest good with love and the highest intentions for all of humanity.
Doesn’t that all feel good to read? Join me in a moment of touchy-feely light and love. It does. It feels good and I enjoy the feeling that the universe has my back if I let it. But, what the fuck do you do with that knowledge? (Pardon my French… Is that actually French? Saucy people, they are.)
This is where a lot of bullshit comes to light in the spiritual world.
It’s easy to get lost in the light and love of it all and the good feelings and warm and fuzzies and forget how we connect and how we take action. Because sometimes shit happens. It could be part of a plan, sure. Or, a mix of the chaos of free will, maybe. It could be just occurrences that happen because that how the ball got rolling. I find it’s usually a mix of many factors, but still, shit happens. What do we do? How do we know what a message is and what to do with it? So, here I am, telling you what the fuck to do. (I must be part French… Sorry, guys.)
How do you recognize a message from spirit from the clutter in your mind?
This is a big topic. One that I’ve spent years understanding and honing. It’s why I do it professionally. (I’m totes professional, ya’ll, as you can tell from my grasp on the French language.) But, being professional isn’t for everyone. What is for everyone is the solace that if you take the time to listen for guidance you’ll find more happiness. That doesn’t take anything but you and your time and your effort. It’s a pretty sweet deal, guys, and the universe kinda just handed that to us.
Let’s take advantage of that gift.
To start with, you have to begin recognizing your ego. Now, we often think of ego as the cocky and pompous version of ourselves. But, it is also the self-doubting and self-defeating version. Ego is the falseness of self. It is the distilled essence of B.S. that we surround ourself with to define what we think we are instead of what we are. It is the side of our self that chooses to deny personal love and joy instead to seek an unrealistic reality where we “need” to be.
That ego is the voice you need to watch out for when you feel a sign from spirit. Why? Because it chews up a message that says be at peace with abundance and turns it into, “Stack up dollah bills, playah.”
It’s not that there’s anything wrong with fat stacks. It’s just that the desperation or fear or greed shouldn’t be a driving force. Because a message from spirit feels right. You welcome abundance and pay yourself the respect of receiving it gracefully instead of angrily seeking it with insistence against what your heart really speaks. You can seek what you need with a drive, passion, and fierce intensity in line with spirit and the best for yourself and all involved or roughly take what you want. See the difference?
Ask yourself are you receiving a sign from spirit or are you creating one?
This method works across all manners of scenarios – finance, family, love, and life in general. Are you forcing a reality or being receptive to the opportunities that reality presents? That means taking the time to start knowing your ego and what creates it. It means reflecting and taking the time to listen and hear your thoughts. Which ones are self-defeating? Which ones feel like that come from old patterns? Is there another feeling that you get that isn’t just hopeful but feels valid and right?
How do you get in touch with that?
Clear through the noise by listening to the noise. That means you have to listen to yourself. Take a quiet moment while driving or walking any such repetitive quiet action and listen to yourself think. Recognize your ego acknowledge and release the noise it makes, In the quiet, something different waits.
Day is greeted by the harshness of my clock. The beep-beeping that sounds to the start of each day, shifts my head into gear, and starts lists and to-do's as I find my bare feet shuffling, padding along the floor of my home. As usual, the day starts with a cry of movement and the noise generated from that widens, broader and broader like a drumbeat hammering out the ever-increasing tempo of each moment. The boom syncopates into many and the well-timed beats fall into a din a disarray of sound following me wherever I go.
Just keep moving.
It's all a blur – impossible to take in – as if my eyes cannot adjust well enough to make sense of the constant hustle of motion everywhere I turn. I’m in constant flux. My mind adapting to a thousand different stimuli. And, yet, a thought off in the periphery of my mind. Something... What was it? Nothing. Shut up. Forget it. Back to moving. Back to work. Back to noise. Lunch. Did I eat? Wait... yes, that sandwich. The clock is ticking toward five. My mind is ticking itself to the abyss.
Just keep going.
A moment and I'm driving then off the next thing, appointment, place, person, whatever. The din has risen to a volcanic boom and ash is all that fills my eyes – one motion to the next to the next to the next. The malaise creates a haze of numbness. And I stop feeling. That’s better. Isn’t it? Not feeling means I can manage. Who cares? It’s not like anyone notices. Success doesn’t waste time on feeling.
Just stop caring.
Behind the wheel again, the clenching of my jaw leaves my musculature knit into a finely meshed wire sack, and I slowly open and close my teeth for relief. And all at once I'm in the driveway – home – if you can call it that. How did I get here? When? The door of the car swings open as I find my feet falling much more heavily as I make my way through the front door. Inside, I breathed. Had I done that today? I must have. I'm still standing. I think that needs air, doesn't it?
Just keep standing.
Microwave. Scarfed food. Television. Facebook. All squished together in the few moments that I pretend that I’m catching my breath. Huh? Dressed for bed? Apparently, I had done that, too, and found myself tucked neatly between my bedsheets.
Just rest. Just rest. Just rest.
Then, all at once, it hits me. The sound I avoid every evening, the deadening quiet. It could go on forever until the tiny sounds try to fill in the widening sense of pressure. My heartbeat. My breath. They fill my ears as the last bit of light slinks away below the horizon and I become wrapped in the dark yet silvery embrace of the night.
No moving, no going, no standing.
All there was to listen to now was that little indiscernible sound of the inside of my head. Then, another small noise as a choked gasp and I recognized soft droplets of tears forming in my eyes.
Stop feeling. I can’t. Stop feeling. I can’t. I can't stop feeling.
The gasp builds into a shuddered wail from somewhere deep within. I silenced it – swallowing the feeling into submission where I no longer had to listen. Soundless as it was, I heard and felt it in my entire being. My body a rock of dense nothingness, and my eye stared blanking as if dead already. Wouldn't that be nice? It is in the noise of my sorrow that another sound in my head grows louder.
But it is different.
It encourages me. It whispers to me about what is possible. It tells me what I can do. It tells me I am worthy of love. It tells me all the things I should listen to and refuse to believe. I find myself in argument, preferring to wrap myself in the cold despondence of despair. I’m more comfortable there. That’s where I belong, after all.
“No, you don’t.”
It’s almost forceful, this thought, as if it is not of me not my own thought but from another source. I want to cry. So, I do. It is long and cold and ugly. Each tear sheds away a dream I’d lost and hope I’d never have and the silent death of a life that I wanted so badly. But, told myself I wasn’t worth having.
I startle at the sense of warmth.
It’s not me. I know it’s not because I try again to argue. Pulling out every tactic from the toy-box of my five-year-old self to throw the adult equivalent of a tantrum – trying to have it “my way” even if it means misery. I am in charge. And, I choose to be miserable.
“Yes, you’re in charge.”
I almost hear it this time. And for the first time, the room fell truly silent. I feel something nearby – offering comfort. It’s right there. I look in the direction and see a faint outline almost like when I see people against the white walls in the conference room. They call them auras, but I never really subscribed to that bullshit. I have real stuff to worry about.
Real stuff? This is real. Maybe I was full of bullshit, and this is real.
I can’t help it now. My need to reach out overcomes every sense of hesitation. “I’m in charge? But, what do I do?” I am finally ready to hear answers to seek refuge instead of hide in a sea of my sorrows. The conversation is long. It is all positive. It is all simple. It is a doable. It was there all along. This time I was listening to something that told me to love myself and leave behind the self-pity and self-defeat. It told me to assume that that I could and laugh at what I thought were mistakes.
That, dear readers, is an intense 911 call from your spiritual council. It comes in different forms for all of us, and often, is quieter as it hums in the background. Stay tuned for next week’s blog to understand what connection to spirit is like in daily life and how to recognize it from the chatter in your own mind.
Thanks for reading