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July 2009 
Memories of the Forgotten Moments which my Soul is constructed
Posted on May 29th, 2009
by 
michaelsits
michaelsits
This is a wriritng assigment from the Diving Deeper Group that begins with a reflection on this statement; "Memories of the forgotten moments from which my Soul is constructed"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the fourth day of a four-day intensive. We were down to just three of us; one didn’t make it the distance. I practically quit a few times. Really, I just wanted anything but to have to deal with who I was right at that time and place. Anything would and could be better than feeling that sense of disconnection from me, The Higher Self, from others and most of all from God. I was alone with the two people I felt most comfortable and safest in the world but very alone.
I had skated through a few years of living in an intentional community and being ‘the spiritual guy’. Labels like this excuse you from actually having to grow because everyone assumed you must be doing whatever asinine thing your was doing because ‘it must have a purpose’. Hah! Funny in retrospect. It had a purpose all right, and it worked. I completely detached from my self and why I was sent here this time.
The living statue that I had become needed to be broken, crushed or both. I sat like a monk, ate like a monk, spoke like a monk, gardened like a monk, listened like a monk but there were two specific aspects that separated me from ‘monkhood’. The first being that I did not care about anyone but myself, a major flaw in the whole acts like one, looks like one, talks like one, eats like and even has a shaved head like one theory. The other was that I was not a monk! By not being a monk meant that I did not make the vows and commitments necessary to sustain the life of a monk. I could wake as many nights as I wanted at 3:00a.m. to meditate and pray but I was not a monk.
What was I then? A living statue of a man who looked similar to me, similar. I had no emotions or connection to anybody or anything really. Every now and then I would involuntarily connect to something or somebody but it was rarer and rarer as time went on. Nobody questioned or confronted me about what or why I was doing or not doing. I just got away with it on perception alone. Well, I didn’t really get away with anything; I was miserable. So I sat in my room day after day staring at nothing and ‘just being’. Trust me, I was full of ‘being’ something all right.
Then came the intensive right after 911, not planned that way, just worked out to be then. My games and bullshit had run its course. Of course I was not aware of any of it, since I already knew everything. The that last day during lunch. I believe we were eating pumpkin soup with sunflower seeds, a vegetable salad and some freshly baked homemade brown bread of some kind. The other two were finished with their meal even though they ate slowly. I was busy eating slower as part of my ‘Messiah Complex’. The show must go on!
“Douglas”, the facilitator said to me, “Your spirituality seems very external. You seem to only connect and show interest in external things like food, the environment, and the earth. What about you? Are you ever connected to yourself anymore? When was the last time you actually felt a connection to The Higher Self?”
I slowly placed my fork down on the light blue tablecloth with white along the edges. I tried to stay in my statue state but it was starting to crumble after four days of the outer layers being chipped away little by little. “Actually, I do not see them as different. They are all One for me.”
The two of them looked at each and had to restrain themselves from breaking into hysterical laughter. “Really?” The smiles, no smirks were slicing through the last few layers. I could feel them being cut right in front of my eyes. “Yes. They are all just manifestations of God. I do not”. And I was cut off promptly and forcefully, “How dare you bring God into this! What you are connected to does not resemble God in any shape or form! Leave God out of this so you do not have to heap anymore Karmic debts than you already have! God. You wouldn’t know God if you were standing in God’s Presence!”
And there it was. Bang! Just like that my core crumbled all over the brown bread with raisins and walnuts. There was nothing left to hide since it was no longer hidden, even from myself. I shook. I trembled. I played with the drawstrings of my cotton pants. I looked down to avoid anything that resembled eye contact.
“Are we done?” she said to the other participant.
“Yes, I thing we are. We certainly can’t do any more work without a connection to The Higher Self present and clearly that will not happen today.”
“I agree. OK, we are done. Sorry Douglas but it just isn’t meant to be this time. There is nothing we can do. This is between you and God. I pray for you and will continue to do so. But this is between you and God.”
One hour later I was walking down the street with my backpack full and the still hot Autumn sun blazing on my body. I was being singed while walking down that street lined with old green pines and country houses. With each heavy step, I could feel the weight and burden of those words, “How dare you bring God into this! What you are connected to does not resemble God in any shape or form.” I didn’t even get to finish my salad or say good-bye to anyone. I was the contagious disease that they did not want to catch. Harsh as it may have been; it saved my life. Many years later I realized it was not personal, it was a spiritual Teaching and had nothing to do with me or my personality. The Soul is constructed of much greater fabric than what the personality can stitch together. Just like these forgotten memories that shook the statue right out of me till I was left naked with just me and my mind of spaghetti twisted and tied together without a spaghetti spoon to pull them apart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the fourth day of a four-day intensive. We were down to just three of us; one didn’t make it the distance. I practically quit a few times. Really, I just wanted anything but to have to deal with who I was right at that time and place. Anything would and could be better than feeling that sense of disconnection from me, The Higher Self, from others and most of all from God. I was alone with the two people I felt most comfortable and safest in the world but very alone.
I had skated through a few years of living in an intentional community and being ‘the spiritual guy’. Labels like this excuse you from actually having to grow because everyone assumed you must be doing whatever asinine thing your was doing because ‘it must have a purpose’. Hah! Funny in retrospect. It had a purpose all right, and it worked. I completely detached from my self and why I was sent here this time.
The living statue that I had become needed to be broken, crushed or both. I sat like a monk, ate like a monk, spoke like a monk, gardened like a monk, listened like a monk but there were two specific aspects that separated me from ‘monkhood’. The first being that I did not care about anyone but myself, a major flaw in the whole acts like one, looks like one, talks like one, eats like and even has a shaved head like one theory. The other was that I was not a monk! By not being a monk meant that I did not make the vows and commitments necessary to sustain the life of a monk. I could wake as many nights as I wanted at 3:00a.m. to meditate and pray but I was not a monk.
What was I then? A living statue of a man who looked similar to me, similar. I had no emotions or connection to anybody or anything really. Every now and then I would involuntarily connect to something or somebody but it was rarer and rarer as time went on. Nobody questioned or confronted me about what or why I was doing or not doing. I just got away with it on perception alone. Well, I didn’t really get away with anything; I was miserable. So I sat in my room day after day staring at nothing and ‘just being’. Trust me, I was full of ‘being’ something all right.
Then came the intensive right after 911, not planned that way, just worked out to be then. My games and bullshit had run its course. Of course I was not aware of any of it, since I already knew everything. The that last day during lunch. I believe we were eating pumpkin soup with sunflower seeds, a vegetable salad and some freshly baked homemade brown bread of some kind. The other two were finished with their meal even though they ate slowly. I was busy eating slower as part of my ‘Messiah Complex’. The show must go on!
“Douglas”, the facilitator said to me, “Your spirituality seems very external. You seem to only connect and show interest in external things like food, the environment, and the earth. What about you? Are you ever connected to yourself anymore? When was the last time you actually felt a connection to The Higher Self?”
I slowly placed my fork down on the light blue tablecloth with white along the edges. I tried to stay in my statue state but it was starting to crumble after four days of the outer layers being chipped away little by little. “Actually, I do not see them as different. They are all One for me.”
The two of them looked at each and had to restrain themselves from breaking into hysterical laughter. “Really?” The smiles, no smirks were slicing through the last few layers. I could feel them being cut right in front of my eyes. “Yes. They are all just manifestations of God. I do not”. And I was cut off promptly and forcefully, “How dare you bring God into this! What you are connected to does not resemble God in any shape or form! Leave God out of this so you do not have to heap anymore Karmic debts than you already have! God. You wouldn’t know God if you were standing in God’s Presence!”
And there it was. Bang! Just like that my core crumbled all over the brown bread with raisins and walnuts. There was nothing left to hide since it was no longer hidden, even from myself. I shook. I trembled. I played with the drawstrings of my cotton pants. I looked down to avoid anything that resembled eye contact.
“Are we done?” she said to the other participant.
“Yes, I thing we are. We certainly can’t do any more work without a connection to The Higher Self present and clearly that will not happen today.”
“I agree. OK, we are done. Sorry Douglas but it just isn’t meant to be this time. There is nothing we can do. This is between you and God. I pray for you and will continue to do so. But this is between you and God.”
One hour later I was walking down the street with my backpack full and the still hot Autumn sun blazing on my body. I was being singed while walking down that street lined with old green pines and country houses. With each heavy step, I could feel the weight and burden of those words, “How dare you bring God into this! What you are connected to does not resemble God in any shape or form.” I didn’t even get to finish my salad or say good-bye to anyone. I was the contagious disease that they did not want to catch. Harsh as it may have been; it saved my life. Many years later I realized it was not personal, it was a spiritual Teaching and had nothing to do with me or my personality. The Soul is constructed of much greater fabric than what the personality can stitch together. Just like these forgotten memories that shook the statue right out of me till I was left naked with just me and my mind of spaghetti twisted and tied together without a spaghetti spoon to pull them apart.
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