A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile
the moment a single man contemplates it,
bearing within him the image of a cathedral.
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery
I had no idea life could have this many cathedrals. I knew there were some, but this is ridiculous… in a wonderful way. To me the gradual progression from the myopic world of the ego to the ever-new majesty of being alive came with going beyond the minimal experience of being present into one more sweeping, one where triumphing over fear with a deep connection to creativity gave me the cathedrals, although sometimes rock piles have their own beauty simply they way they are.
Telling a story is usually the best way to explain things so here's one, and it's true.
In high school I pinned a button on my book bag that looked something like this:
Actual size
Ironically, I rarely smiled. I seldom spoke for that matter. I was angst itself, accessorized with saddle shoes, knee socks, aching shyness …and a book-bag with that button ^ on it. I kept cute, predominantly yellow things around to buoy me when my family drove me bonkers or I them; I was a sensitive teen negotiating the turbulent waters.
One day, David, a kid in one of my classes, pointed at my sun and rainbow button, (^ the one up above, remember?), and said, “I hate people who have these buttons.”
He didn’t say, “I hate these buttons,” he said “I hate people who have these buttons.”
Pause… That’s me…
The sun on my button all of a sudden sunk.
Me too.
Instead of responding with “Hey! What’s wrong with ‘Have a nice day?’ What’s wrong with YOU?” I figured something was wrong with me for wanting to spread a word of cheer with something cute and sunshiney, removed the pin, and hid the sentiment for many years and considered that I’d be more accepted if I nurtured cynicism.
It was one of many thoughts that kept me within a confined existence but there was still one eye to the yellow hue of hope.
In the mid 80s, I attended services in a spiritual ashram ran by Michael Singer who later wrote a best seller called The Untethered Soul. He introduced me to the most liberating idea I’d ever heard: We aren’t our thoughts; if we no longer identify ourselves with our thoughts we become liberated, compassionate witnesses rather than prisoners to this mumble jumble in our head. Sweet! If we simply observe the thoughts and feelings that come our way from the center of our consciousness, we could transcend suffering and the illusions of the ego (which I’ve come to recognize as one and the same). It sounded wonderful but I couldn’t quite grasp the application of these teachings … yet.
Ten years later, despite a career that rose steadily to success from psychiatric occupational therapist to program manager at the Psychiatric Institute of Washington D.C., I became disenchanted I’d become to fit into my job. My disillusionment led to depression and I quit. I was terrified and panicked, so still riding on my past reputation, was hired at an unsuspecting hospital in San Diego only be laid off a year and a half later… more terror.
There it was, my fear of getting fired – played out.
But instead of it being the worst thing that could happen, it turned into the best thing. I now was free to reinvent myself in a way that made sense with what brought me joy. The rock pile became a cathedral – just like in Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s quote (remember? The one up at the top? ^). I wondered “What else scares me that could turn out to be a good thing?” I felt like a fighter on a street corner saying, “OKAY. Who ELSE wants some of ‘dis? Show me another fear! ”
So I got married. And I went into business for myself. And wrote and acted in a full-length play. Had art shows. Wrote a book, was speaking all over the country. I was doing what I love: creativity coaching and workshops, art, writing, having weird dinner parties. My life was looking pretty good, but I still heard my ego echoing, “I hate people who are you,” and its favorite theme “You are not enough, what you’re doing is not enough, nothing is enough. Get more.” I was listening, absorbed, and identified in these thoughts that soon became beliefs.
The “more” came in the form of rock piles falling on my head. My marriage disintegrated, my dad died, my mom didn’t want anything to do with me and then she died too without me being able to resolve this, I alienated people including myself. I had no family left to speak of and the dream of having kids was not going to happen. From all the stress I got sick, my golden locks started falling out and I just wanted to sleep. I was tap dancing on rock bottom. The color yellow just signified being sick.
Staying true to the theme
At the time I was living with a “poor choice” on a steep hill east of San Diego. One day I forgot to activate the emergency brake and my cool, red Acura rolled into our high desert front yard, which was accommodated an array of huge boulders. My car totaled itself, literally … in a rock pile. A rock pile ceases to be… um, did I see a cathedral in the rock pile? No, I didn’t even see a drive-through burger stand. Because sometimes a rock pile is just a pile of … rocks. Hope was gone. This was good.
“When you move beyond hope, you take responsibility. You face facts. You see solutions that you didn't see before. You stand in the present.” ~Danielle La Porte
I gave up hope and stood in the present wandering around looking for solutions.
“Not all those who wander are lost.: J.R.R. Tolkein
Nah. I was definitely lost.
So I Turned to my Creativity
My world became a singular focus on creativity. Because my life outside was so painful, I went inside and immersed myself in the creative process of my second book, The Awe-manac. I didn’t want to come out so I kept going deeper into this place of inventive thought and whimsical imagination. My sense of humor came back and I got in touch with a feeling of bliss I didn’t ever want to be away from. And as I stayed with it, undistracted, it opened up the world further than I thought life could be opened up.
Now my spiritual teachings from decades earlier came alive with meaning so I returned to those same teachings about letting thoughts and feelings go instead of getting absorbed in them. These spiritual teachings combined with my newly found creative high and all of a sudden the moment opened up in a way I never thought possible. With awe, gratitude, surrender, and freedom. I was content with all that was in the present. Material stuff, status, competing with others became someone else’s definition of success, not mine.
It didn’t happen in 30 days and it didn’t happen in a straight line.
I’m definitely not in bliss 24/7 but when I am awake to the practice of being present and letting go of the ego mind, I am happier than I imagined possible.
