Humility in the Breakdown

I begin this post with hesitance, but namely humility as well. This is not a post I had "planned," thought out, prepared or filtered. It is simply words streaming from my heart that may or may not give solace to the aching in my bones these days. A call to humility…"a quality by which a person considering his (her) own defects has a humble opinion of him(her)self and willingly submits him(her)self to God and to others for God's sake." Or, as St. Bernard defines it: "A virtue by which a man (woman) knowing himself (herself) as he (she) truly is."

It is directly contrary to a demotion of our intrinsic self-worth, but a clear recognition and broadened shift in perspective toward God, or a higher universal power. As I write these words, I recognize my own hesitance toward humility in uttering the word "God." Growing up in a Christian home, I identified as such. All throughout my life, I felt a strong pull and connection to the loving, all-accepting, all-forgiving God. It lit my heart on fire praying and singing at church, songs devoted to praising this love.

But, Christianity, as other religions have as well, soon became too confining, too restrictive to my soul, aching to be free and unencumbered to the harsh judgment and condemnation. So, about five or so years ago, I shut it down, completely. Little did I know, by opening up to other modes of thinking and believing (reincarnation, self-enlightenment, self-responsibility), I closed my heart to the love that this God energy is and has always been. I inadvertently tried to filter out the fear pushed on by many religions and instead sought out my own self-advocating vices to reclaim the love I've so desperately sought after. All this to say, I think somewhere along the line, I made the "mistake" of severing my ties from God, from Father and Mother, from Source, whatever name resonates with you, though I've realized that this severance is not possible. It's merely the illusion that we are separate. 

So, I strapped my big girl boots on and piled burden upon burden upon myself, believing I had reclaimed my inner power and strength to overcome such suffering. Oh, but what a lonely, painful road it has been. Sure, I've had plenty of moments when the light and love has entered my heart, through connections with others, connection with my higher self, and through inspirational words in self-help books. But, only fleeting moments. Moments I've constantly tried to re-create and seek after for a long-lasting feeling of wholeness, fullness, comfort, support and relief.

But, I'm exhausted, worn out, worn down, broken down. I can't do it anymore. I can't keep living this life of illusion, pretending to be some yogic, healing warrior, who can't even heal her own heart. Times of pain and suffering…all the guilt and shame that's accrued has brought me back to my knees, my war-torn, scuffed child-like knees, where I lay down my pride, my ego, and once again ask for God to enter my heart, to free me from this pervasive, invasive fear in my mind, to relieve me of the self-hate, the shame and the guilt. I pray to God to lighten this burden that grows heavier each day.

And, I welcome this holy, holy, moment, a moment when my ego is fighting tooth and nail to keep me the same, to convince me of its bullshit, that it can figure this mess in my head out, that it can finally solve these fucked up stories in my head of low self-worth. That if I give it one more chance, it can finally "fix" me. The resistance to surrender, to humility, to grace, to letting go and letting God, a God I had inadvertently forsaken for the ego God in my mind. To reclaim the faith.

And, don't get my wrong, I've accrued plenty of knowledge along the way on this "enlightenment" seeking path. I have plenty of knowledge to sit here and advise you how to just be here now, to be present, blah blah blah (forgive me in my pain-staken state...no screw that, no apologies here….I choose to instead stand for once, in my own god damn life, unapologetically, feeling all the shit that I'm feeling and to not apologize for stepping on anyone's toes or offending anyone...after all this is MY story, my messy, glorious life of "fuck ups" and "mistakes"). I put those in quotes desperately trying to convince myself that there are no such things as mistakes, only lessons.

And, sure that's all well and dandy, but for me, lessons are just another way to shame and guilt myself, because after all, I've believed that the own-ness is on me and me alone. That, to ask for help is strictly out of the question for a self-entitled yogi or whatever bullshit label I've put on myself to keep doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results. And, yes that is the definition of insanity. Well, job well done, indeed because, yes I have felt that chaotic, insanity all too well over the years. The eating disorder, the obsessive compulsive thinking, the bipolarity of the looming depression and addictive anxiety rat race, the marijuana hazed and numbed-out state I've been using to un-feel, to check out and bail out on any discomfort, the rawness of the rejection in relationships only to feel like I'm always the one who's not enough.

And, the babbling brook that I am these days could go on and on about all the vices I've been using to soothe this pain and suffering and burden I've been desperately trying to take on, alone. The perfectionism, the rigid rules in my head, the condemning and critical judge, all these voices threatening to shake the loose ground beneath my feet, the sand I have built beneath my house.

As I am rereading this book, A Return to Love, by Marianne Williamson, and her reflections on A Course in Miracles, she writes about the biblical story where Jesus talks about building our house on sand or rock:

"Our house is our emotional stability. When it is built on sand, then the winds and rain can tear it down. One disappointing phone call and we crumble; one storm and the house falls down. When our house is built on rock, then it is sturdy and strong an the storms can't destroy it. We are not so vulnerable to life's passing dramas. Our stability rests on something more enduring than the current weather, something permanent and strong. We're depending on God.

She writes:
"I had never realized that depending on God meant depending on love. [But]:
God is the love within us.
Whether we "follow Him," or think with love, is entirely up to us.
When we choose to love, or to allow our minds to be one with God, then life is peaceful. 
When we turn away from love, the pain sets in.
And whether we love, or close our hearts to love, is a mental choice we make, every moment of every day."

And, on that possibly "imperfect" note, I will end this post, thanking God, grace and love for this moment when my heart is open to humility. To surrender to the love, to relinquish the gripping control and fear of other's judgment at these words. I notice the hesitance in myself to remember that my Christian roots may be very much the part that needs healing and integrating in this present moment, and to allow God, love, forgiveness and grace back into my heavy heart.

And, on that humble note, I end with an "Amen," and "So be it."