Bathing in the Bardo

“What is born will die, ​
what has been gathered
will be dispersed,
what has been accumulated will be exhausted,
what has been built up
will collapse and
what has been high
will be brought low.”
~ Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

How it is for me right now, at this instant

So I write and write and then I cut and cut. In the end everything and nothing feel important. Let in even a little memory and the flood gates open; I feel more than I was prepared for, but it is getting better. I’m learning to ride the inexplicable physical memories that come and take over my life and drag me back to my past. I have started to feel some relief from what I think of as the Horrors, but with it comes the ability to realize the ocean of grief and despair that years of trauma have leaked into my soul. It is the accumulation of all those tears I never shed. All the pain I turned away from and medicated in any way possible.

I understand now I have to feel all those things I was unwilling to feel before until my body can relax. Willingness and acceptance, that is all that is left. Each moment I wasn’t present for was all locked away, and it is from that deep lock box I am barfing up, literally and figuratively, in chunks.​​ I am soothed by Josh Korda from Dharma Punx NYC. He points out that the human body has taken millennia to develop, and the logical brain has only been around a couple of thousand years.

We should trust our bodies. No manipulation, let them be. Do not try to convince them of anything and they will work it out. It helps to know that no matter how long I’ve lived in flight, I can enter a healthy herd and shake off the tension. Regulate and let go. That is my body knowing its way home. ​ Both scientists and spiritual wisdom alike say the same thing, give the same advice. Let go, just let go. Which sounds so pith and easy, but truly the hardest thing in the world. Let go of the constant planning and reviewing and manipulation, feel how you feel. Let go on calling it good or bad, just feel it. Let the native wisdom of the body guide.

If you are constantly striving in your mind for peace (sometimes called with-holds) you have missed the point entirely. If you are striving in your body to manufacture feeling (sometimes called turn-on) then you are only training a monkey to pull the lever for more treats.  Un-adulterated reality is where it’s at, anything else is just hiding. The hardest question to ask is what are you hiding and why, for whom?

“It’s when we lose the illusion of control—when we’re most vulnerable and exposed—that we can discover the creative potential of our lives.”
-Pema Khandro Rinpoche, Four Points for Letting Go

I found this in an old journal, I was around 25 years old and living in Spain, but it struck a chord. Reminds me of what it used to sound like inside my head.

Because
I don’t know
how to be.
When the morning
shines on me.
When the
evening
separates me.
When my
dreams
leave me alone.

I have not yet had the fortitude and strength to jump into the old journals I have stacked under my bed. I have many. Many from courses, many “DO” date details. I need a weekend to go through and organize these and then have a bonfire? Want to come roast a marshmallow? Bring some of your own? Some of these journals I will mine for inspiration and for writing purposes. Some I have seen already and I don’t recognize the author. Pretty trippy.

On the same page as the one above are the words on the right hand margin:
Bad
Good
Indifferent

Also this, it’s funny I always say I never/don’t write poetry but I’m finding more of it than I remember in these old journals.

It’s that
peace
seems to be escaping.
And things
go
so far the same way.
A buckle
or fall.
A trip over
​hiccups.
When things
go away.
Never, never
and
again
ever
to carry you
​More.

​There are 7 pages after this of writing that is  all too familiar, painfully so. Stream of thought. These I will put away for the final reconciliation of all these voices in my head and on paper. Glad I can finally find some compassion for that girl, whoever she was.