Day 23. January 30th, 2012. Beginner's Luck and Bonked Over the Head by God

It's hard to focus on Liz's writing today.  I just cleaned out my locker at work and collected the last of my tip money.  I still need to start packing so I can move out by February 2nd.  I have to file my taxes, too.  So, I have to rent a truck, get storage, move into a small West Village apartment with my fiancee, all while planning a wedding (we're meeting with the caterer tomorrow, by the way)!  Those are a lot of reasons to feel stressed out.

"Ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strain)"  Bowie.  It's all happening at once and I'm not ready for it.  This is where I need God to take over.  In times of great strain, I usually get overwhelmed and retreat into myself.  And, it's easy to have a relationship with the Almighty when things are going great.  How about now?  Now's a good time to work on that relationship with God.  What do they call these?  Luxury problems?  It doesn't feel to luxurious right now.

Liz writes about a beautiful, powerful and moving New Years meditation, a ". . . blue string of song.  And, I drift into such a state that I think I might be calling God's name in my sleep, or maybe I am only falling down the well shaft of this universe."  p. 129

And, the next day she goes to work scrubbing floors.  She also goes to work meditating.  And, it doesn't go well.  I'm reminded of a passage from a favorite book of mine, The Alchemist (p. 139):

"'What you still need to know is this: before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we've learned as we've moved toward that dream. That's the point at which most people give up. It's the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, one `dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon.'

'Every search begins with beginner's luck. And every search ends with the victor's being severely tested.'

The boy remembered an old proverb from his country. It said that the darkest hour of the night came just before the dawn."

The powerful New Years meditation was, it seems to me, her "beginner's luck".  Then, the universe or reality, if you will, stepped in to challenge her, to make her stronger by the pain of spiritual growth.  the beginner's luck was to show her she was on the right path.  The challenge and the discipline of deep and devoted meditation is to build her worthiness and ability to recieve the gifts from God that are coming, to humble her to receive such gifts so they can be appreciated, honored and treated with dignity and respect.

It's funny how, in the face of fear, Liz reverted to an old habit: an academic approach.  The funny part is that she attempted to approach meditation academically.  She tried to understand the peaceful mind with the monkey mind.  However, the pain and frustration it caused was NOT, I'm sure, funny.

Don't we all have our own tricks and habits that we fall back on in the face of change, newness and fear.  I have them.  I'll quietly hide in myself, try to figure the situation out (all by myself, while Liz, on the other hand was asking a lot of questions), wait for some one to appear who is obviously worse at this new thing than I am and then I'll simply try to be better than this person.  I'll then be comforted and given confidence by the fact that at least I'm not as bad as that person.

I try to sneak into the new thing, edge into, ease into it, while seeking from others their encouragement and approval (and their recognition of my super-human, magical as of yet unseen talent).  Then, I'll beat myself up for not being the greatest there ever was at this new thing I've only tried a few times at the most.  The cards I stack against myself!  These expectations I set on myself and others only lead to disappointment, forfeit and failure.

That, however, has been changing, slowly but surely.  Realizing now that it is all in God's hands, there is no longer any crippling or terminal defeat.  If I'm here to do his work, then it's not my failure.  It's just a learning and growing experience, to better learn how to use my God-given talents.  I am simply here to serve God.  Now, this is all easier said than done.  This could all happen easily if my monkey mind would just shut the hell up!  But, it doesn't.  It yaks away, describing things to me, judging myself and others.  Then, it's either (1) Bored, (2) Angry, (3) Depressed or (4) Anxious, just like Liz.  p. 132.  Although, mine doesn't seem to care whether I'm mad at it.  p 136.

I actually used to call my alcoholic thinking the Poop Monster.  It stomps around in my head, roaring grouchily, complaining acidically and the pooping in the corners.  And, any attempt to clean up said thinking was met by menacing growling and the gnashing of teeth.

The monster is quieter these days.

I'm horribly undisciplined when it comes to meditation.  I'm envious that Liz made it 17 minutes before her brain started blabbing.  I don't think I can make it 17 seconds.  An eight-second pause in thinking sounds about my speed.  p. 136.  And, sitting cross-legged on the floor?!  I'm a very old and inflexible 38.

My meditation usually consists of a little focus on my breathing and a lot of day dreamy thoughts that lead me off into imagination play land, or fight club, or debate club whichever the case may be.  But, see or feel God?  I think not.  I just think God randomly bonks me over the head with divine inspiration when I'm not looking.