Skip to main content

Beyond Illusion Part III: Accepting What Is

Photo by Lyn

As I've been living more in a flow, I have become much more aware of a part of myself that is able to view my life objectively, a part of me that lives outside of my conditioning and my fearful thinking. It is a part of me that is quiet, (quiet as in grounded, strong, and perceptive, as opposed to quiet meaning silent, passive or meek). It is a part of me that embraces and desires experience, that wants to try on as many variations of life as it can, to clothe itself in many layers of contrast, until it finds an ensemble of truth that it can wear through the ages.

It is a part of me committed to finding deeper release, and to accepting what is. This part of me is active at all times, but I am not always in tune with it. It is most audible during my time in sacred space, when I allow myself to flow with my desires, or when I am outside of my mind, in dream-filled sleep, or in the moments between sleep and wake. Its rich insight comes to me as subtle waves of clear-thinking that feels, all at once, as if it is the heart, and the same life-force that keeps the heart beating. It comes in words or symbolic images that rise up from deep within. It comes in nudges. There is a feeling of expansion. My heart feels open, loving, and sure. In these moments my mind has joined forces for peace.

Recently, I had some of this peaceful clarity bubble up within. I began to see all of existence as variations on a theme.

Variations on a theme is a musical form in which the theme is transformed into an infinite amount of musical creations retaining thematic elements.

It is something akin to our basic human skeleton, upon which a myriad of different physiques, and faces are laid, to form a unique identity. And beyond appearance, innate qualities of the individual, and genetics, there are infinite amounts of configurations of possible environments, beliefs, and social constructs that a person experiences, that over time will shape an individual identity. The skeleton remains as constant under all the variation.

So, why is this important?

I've become very aware of a basic thematic element pulsating through all aspects of my existence--always there, under all the variations of my experience. It is a sort of skeletal structure that has emerged out of the chaos that was my perception. It is that the the nature of how we experience reality is always on a continuum, is perceived good or bad relative to our past conditioning and experience, and is subject at all times to balancing forces that shift our experience back and forth across a spectrum. Most importantly is that contained within this understanding of the nature of reality is the way out of chaos and into peace. They exist within one another. It is an illusion that they are separate.

In simpler terms: sometimes I eat healthily and am excited to exercise, and sometimes I eat "horribly" and can't exercise to save my life. There are times when I want to participate with others, and sometimes when I want to be alone. Sometimes I can put myself last, and sometimes I must put myself first. Sometimes I feel deeply happy and in tune, enlightened even, and sometimes I feel dissatisfied, disconnected and depressed. Sometimes I can see through illusion, and sometimes I can't. Sometimes I feel afraid, and sometimes I feel brave. Sometimes I am feeling very well, and other times I feel sick, or somewhere in between. My energy levels range from high to low, and constantly fluctuate, even when my environment is static--consistent night's sleep, healthy food, low stress, etc.

Sometimes I am very organized. Sometimes I have my house cleaned, sometimes I let the housework build up. Most of the time I am floating somewhere in between. There are times when I am an amazing mother, when I really see my children for the amazing beings that they are, when I revel in the magic of being with them; and then there are times when I am very absent, mostly, existing within all possible variations in between; but never out of comfortable limits. For instance, I am not comfortable beating my kids up, nor spoiling them rotten, so, I stay more toward the middle than these extremes. Likewise, my house is never as clean as a museum, because I am comfortable with some dust, but I don't let my house become too trashed. However, I might eat more chocolate than another would be comfortable with:)

When I analyze every aspect of my life, I realize that everything from what I do to what I think exists naturally on a continuum. When I suffer it is because I am experiencing the balance shifting toward what I don't want, what I think is bad, or what doesn't feel comfortable, making it difficult for me to accept what is. Then, whether I do anything or not, I find that the balance will shift to the other side where I find relief. Over the course of time it performs a sort of teeter-tottering across the continuum. And I have noticed that the size of the continuums, and how far they extend in each direction in relation to our experiences are as varied for each of us on every subject, as our faces.

Whether I suffer or not is based largely upon how I feel about which side the balance has shifted toward. Sometimes I could care less, and don't feel affected at all, even though there are those around me who are suffering greatly from the shift, because their perception is that things are very bad. Sometimes it is the reverse. I am very upset about something I judge as bad and others wonder why I am in the least upset. Sometimes I can handle "bad", and then later the same "bad" comes along and I can't cope with it at all.

So, the nature of our experience of reality is that it is forever fluctuating within a range, that the same experiences are experienced differently at times, and the most interesting part, that my acceptance of the fluctuation fluctuates.

Yeah, so?

What if we could embrace that the nature of reality is that it constantly changes, that it is about contrast, is about opposites, and that everything, even our perceptions exist on a fluctuating continuum; that this chaotic nature of reality itself holds the key to lasting peace, in the absence of absolutes, black and white, right or wrong, or overarching solutions to any problems. Because we cannot change the nature of anything permanently, we are forced to relinquish any illusion of control, and to accept that anything we do would be nothing more than an approximation made within a varying and constantly shifting spectrum, with meaning only to our current perception.

In my own experience, I have found that embracing and viewing my own experiences with more possible ways of being has lead to an increased acceptance of what is.

I find that I subject myself and others to less judgement, and spend less time fretting about how bad things are. The energy that I used to spend complaining is now freed up for moving into new experiences that bring lasting change, for shifting onto new-found continuums that embrace more possibility, and replace the old constricted ones. The entire continuum shifts ever so slightly in the direction I would like to go, until the old one doesn't exist anymore!

I am beginning to feel the highs and lows balance out, allowing my perception to expand, to become more peaceful, and more energized. My patterns are changing slowly but surely, as I find myself not doing what I have always done, but not out of fear or shoulding myself, but out of increased efficiency and clear-thinking.

When I find myself "off course", I can instantly expand my continuum to accept where I am-- not to condone my "bad" behavior, but to find a more open and loving way to see myself, so, that I might spend less time suffering and more time shifting into another experience of reality, with a new continuum that expands more in the direction I would like to go. It is as if I am becoming more and more attuned to the part of me that wants to experience life with an open set, to include all the possibilities, within a fuller range--who thinks it's fun, even a game, to go through life finding and giving peace, that wants to love myself and others unconditionally, and to watch them find the freedom to do the same! It is a natural result of changing my perception from fear and lack, to abundance and love.

And in those allowing moments, when I embrace where I am, and you are, and where we are together, I receive the grace of finding heaven on earth, and the wisdom and clarity to see my experiences differently. Instead of the old feelings of criticism and disappointment, and the perception of a world that isn't working, I begin to see divine perfection, and the miracles contained in all experience. I begin to accept, without question, what is.


Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

Partaking of the Fruit

Photo by Anya Vasilieva on What I most struggle with in creative writing is that there are some ideas that just feel like they belong in the ether, in the natural born clouds. They aren’t meant to be pinned down, and every time I try to pin them down into a practical form on a page, I wound them a little bit, and must throw them back up into the ether for repair, to restore their more nebulous characteristics. This content isn’t supposed to have legs and weight, and to make noise when it walks, or to have such things as a name and defining characteristics. Rather, just whiffs of possibility that hint at an undercurrent of parallel worlds so vast and amazing as to put any Tolkien or Rowling to shame. Its just supposed to hang there, ripe for plucking, but the plucker beware. The fruit bruises easily. And yet, there are those books that seem to pin down something that doesn’t maim the central cast of characters, and in fact broadens the material into something that change