At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.
Lao Tzu
Went to a wake last night. Though it was so nice to see those I loved, even under such circumstances, I was a bit awkward and overwhelmed. I watched as this person, I and others have spent this lifetime thinking I was, reacted and behaved as it maneuvered this social situation. .
I see just how flimsy, rusty, banged up and outwardly imperfect this vessel of body and mind is when I am in a crowd of people...(many other vessels of all makes and models). What is left of my personality, this esteem, this collection of learned experiences or psyche, in those situations, is flapping around like loose bumpers and exhaust pipes making all kinds of noise. I watch as this vessel says and does things with its unconscious need to protect itself from the uncomfortable feelings and thoughts inside. Why is there this insatiable need to protect and defend? Because in its ever changing, unquenchable and vulnerable nature it /"me" is afraid. It knows how close it is to blowing away with the wind.
This vessel I drive around in, just as yours might have been, has been through a lot even before it came out of the factory. It had a certain inherited brokenness to it, simply because of the serial number it was assigned. It was meant to move a certain way with a specially programmed set of strengths and limitations. It was also assigned a particular map of life situations to drive through that would prove a little more than uncomfortable. So, over the years it travelled down many paths, some paths beyond its control, and others it made choices to travel on. It was forced over some rough terrain and it was graced with some smooth. But all along it was picking up dust and dirt ( karma), getting damaged, reacting to damage and then adding its own form of damage to the world. It contended with the weather...with the poor driving of other vehicles...with all the bumps, potholes, and obstacles that made travelling so challenging. It collected a lot of dings and scratches and in its attempt to cover those scars up, to prevent further rust damage through exposure, it hid itself under layers of heavy paint, duck tape, and other DIY repairs. It amateurishly stuffed so much of its reaction to life inside. This messy brokenness, that it stuffed just so it could keep going, never had a chance to be expressed and released. It built up to the point it was always oozing out of the cracks of a self-created defense. It then got projected it everywhere.
I spent much of my life polishing and fixing up this vessel...thinking it was who I was...trying to get it to look a certain way, behave a certain way so it became something that stood out on occasion or at least blended in. The outward appearance and function of this vessel was so important to "me" because I thought it was important to others. How it looked and performed in front of the determining eyes of others was everything ...even more important than what experience the "I" within was having. To be honest, so caught up was I on the outer, I wasn't even aware of the "I" within.
Many of those others I meet up with in crowds knew "me" by my paint jobs and outward repairs, not by the mess. Some knew "me" only by the mess. Few, if any of them, knew me by the driver. Regardless, all outer layers are falling or peeling off now. I imagine I presently look like an old bomb ready for the scrap yard. I look around at these others in the crowd and see how shiny and well kept up their exteriors are, while my vessel of mind and body, that I call "me" and others call "you" or her," with all its history, all its memories, its trauma induced thoughts and feelings, its unsuccessful self-repairs, and its unfulfilled social expectations... is a mess. This mess might be showing more than it ever did. At least, I, who sits behind the wheel, am more aware of it than I ever was. I am acutely aware of this messy vehicle I parade awkwardly in front of others. I feel the mess as it sputters and chokes and it isn't always pleasant.
The thing is...I do not want to be ashamed of this mess. I also do not want to continue redeeming myself by cleaning it up, looking for something out there that will make it run smoother or look shinier. I want to embrace this mess, appreciate it, honor it. I want to stop covering it up and hiding it away. I want whatever was hidden beneath the self-repair to be exposed. I want to shout out to the world, "This is me!" Why? Because I see I am not the makeshift fixer uppers, I am not this mess, nor am I this thing I am driving around in. I am not this "me," it is just something that I am temporarily in. Oh, this vessel serves a purpose. It is needed so I can get around but it is not who I am. It is just something I use and am greatly responsible for creating. What I, or others, think of it is not really important in the long run. What is important is the driver behind the wheel of this vehicle and the driver behind the wheel of all the other vehicles I encounter.
When I look at this "me", this vehicle: this aging body, this psyche, personality, story, with all its hurts, fears, hopes, with all its roles and expectations, and with all its mess chugging along, I see I am getting more and more detached from it. At the same time I appreciate it and honor it for getting me to where I am now. I will do my best to look after it, but no more paint jobs and superficial cover ups are necessary. There is no more need for shame or redemption, just truth. I want whatever is oozing below the paint to come up, be exposed, so it can be released once and for all.
This "me," I see so clearly now, is just a temporary thing I am driving around in. It doesn't define who I am. Everything it went through in the past, every role it succeeded at, every role it failed at, everything it looks like or behaves like now is so unimportant in comparison to the the experience the driver is having behind the wheel in this very moment. I want to reconnect with the driver and feel the experience of living without the focus on this rusty old box of bolts in the way :)
Man...I feel so much relief when I think like that. When I see this thought and feeling machine, this personality, this outward body appearance, as nothing more than the vehicle I am driving in and when I look back at all the circumstances and life events I encountered over the 60 years I was on this planet as simply the road that enfolded before me, I breathe a big sigh. I don't have to own any of it. I don't have to "do" anything about it. I don't have o fix it! It is all just as it is, something to take me from here to there, not something I am. I recognize there is an "I amness" in every vehicle that drives by me or into me. I still often slip away from the wheel and see myself as the vehicle, getting all tangled up in the mess of "me" and the mess of "others" ...but more and more I am becoming aware of the driver. There is no mess, no shame, no redemption, and so much peace in this driver's seat
Remembering and reconnecting to that center of being is everything!
All is well. .
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