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GETTING GROUNDED IN THE GROUNDLESS



We are more similar than we are different. I am like you. I need your experience and you need mine. This is our offering to the community and the things in which we all feed on. Your awakening is my awakening and mine is yours.


Me? I’m writing about, I’m teaching, I’m sharing what I’m learning. Each and every moment. Not what I’ve perfected or crystalized. Crystializations are certainty and certainty is a very dangerous thing.


The truth is the path is not linear. There’s nowhere to climb and some of us are not farther along on some imaginary journey. Each of us holds truths, “sat” beingness, the really reals, that others of us do not.


The truth is that so much of the time I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m groundless and often hopeless. The paradox is that this is where I find my hope.


I find it in the realness that there is no savior coming to rescue me, no answer coming to “solve” my human experience, no moment when I’ll be fortified against all the pain.

There’s no lover, no friend, no career, no anything that will totally calm the moments of existential crisis or moments of unnamed longing and the ache that sometimes comes so strongly I’m brought to my knees in joy, beauty, pain, and an untouchable unnamable love.

There are so many moments I feel like everyone else has a compass and a destination and I’m somehow the one lost at sea. In those flashes of awareness sometimes I get scared, I panic, I want to orient myself again to something, anything at all. This usually arrives as a narrative about my life, a theory about another. Sometimes painful, sometimes true, often not. Always a protection. I’m learning to not. I’m learning to just get grateful.


To not fall prey to my mind’s need for orientation but instead to wander heart-on into the wild of it all. Somehow in the groundlessness, when I go “in” instead of turning away and returning to a more comfortable, familiar orientation I find a more rewarding albeit uncomfortable way to hold myself. To open my eyes to the things calling to me, humming just beneath the surface of my skin. I am like you. I am a noble idea.


Often without purpose but on a constant path of interpretative process to create meaning. I am like you. Alone and never separate. Wandering but not lost. Ungrounded and hopeful. Uncertain but holding truth. I am like you. Sometimes I laugh so hard my cheeks hurt and tears flow from my eyes. How is this so? How is it that my waters flow the same way when I am grieved as when I’m in ecstasy? Isn’t this just the way it is? So utterly human. Yes I am like you. Hands shaking, heart so often aching, legs trembling. But willing.


As always massive gratitude to Dr. Douglas Brooks. My teacher without whom I would know very little.

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