On Saturday evening, after nearly a month of trying to get my shine back, I checked out of the physical realm, embarked on an excursion of spiritual cleansing to discover my shine was never compromised. I did lose sight of the light of some people very dear to me. For a moment, I entertained the notion our shine ends with death and nothing is further from truth. When Spirit is liberated from the vessel needed for physical experience, it soars unfettered in its actual form – as energy. Energy, which always was, continues to do what it always has.
Automobiles begin to depreciate immediately upon leaving the showroom and life functions similarly. Once the umbilical cord is severed, we begin to die. Youth grants a very brief period of distraction, but our concern with mortality increases as time passes and the body depreciates. While advances in medical science allow for the repair and replacement of parts, scheduled service and maintenance cannot change the inevitable. Bodies weaken, decay and turn to dust, but Spirit flourishes, grows stronger, more powerful and determined to survive. Religion relies heavily upon the power of Spirit; its liberty proclaimed even as we eulogize the dead, comforting the bereaved and encouraging the faithful.
The sting of death, coupled with the pain of grief has the capacity to alter perception, attack our core beliefs and rob us of hope. For twenty-seven days, I was bound by grief, mired in uncertainty and clothed with fear, but over seventy-two hours of silent isolation and reflection, stretched prostrate before the universe, I reconnected with my center,. While reflecting on my journey thus far, it became clear I had drifted off course; not entirely lost, but far enough from the intended path to warrant concern. It became first in a series of issues presenting themselves as I further reflected and unpacked my baggage.
It is more than slightly disturbing to discover you are not the person you set out to become, but among the unachieved goals and abandoned dreams are things to celebrate. I am a much kinder and generous person than I set out to become. I have also developed an inclination toward forgiveness that would have eluded me on the intended path. Like Paul, I have learned how to be humble and how to prosper. In each and every situation I have learned the secret of being full and of going hungry, of having too much and of having too little. I have received and continue to cultivate my gift of discernment and I accept full responsibility for what I release into the universe. These are only a few of the gems scattered among rocks.
Thirty dawns from the day I “shacked up” with grief, I emerge renewed in my resolve to let my light so shine. While in seclusion, I recalculated my route, established some short term goals to bring me closer to being the greatest me possible. I also thought of others, struggling to realize their purpose without ever pausing to consider it already achieved. While many of us may not discover a cure for cancer or compose a symphony, our lives are no less significant. There is purpose in simply being.