Which is to say, brace yourself. You don’t get to be “free” without having the self basically destroyed. The precious, familiar self, I mean. The one that’s defined fun in particular terms, and torment, and freedom. All of it with a match suddenly put to its kindling.
Well, think of that blazing orb 93 million miles away. How it does light us and all our dealings. It keeps us comfortably warm without overdoing it. But we’d better not get too close. Yes, it might illumine what’s going on inside, what keeps us limited. But then the heat gets turned up. Pretty soon we’re burned to an unrecognizable crisp.
The rejoicing reaches to the most distant star.
Yes, do move toward it. By all means, when you feel the sun has taken you into its transforming arms, let yourself go — the self you’ve always thought you were. Bit by bit you find a way. I managed, when the time was right. But oh my, do you then discover! And yes, the rejoicing reaches to the most distant star. You keep not being able to believe how different you are.
* * *
And while you hold this in mind, whatever you suppose it might be like, whatever you think it’s been like for somebody else (me, for instance), laugh at yourself. Because you have no idea until you get there. And if you’re anything like me, when you get there, you may not even know where it is you’ve landed.
All the while an enormous kindness attends it all.
We can’t get there until we’re ready. We can’t rush it. Yes, you may say, I’ve been ready for decades. Or so you thought. But you can trust that when the time is right, it’ll happen. You can rest in it, and it will carry you, like a baby in its tender arms.
It turns out we were wrong about every scrap of it: well, that’s sure what happened in my case. As in the case of many others I’ve spoken with about what it was like in the aftermath.
* * *
Is this one of those “be careful what you wish for” things? No, not really. It’s just to say don’t be surprised if precious little of your old self appears to still be operative. Which is why when waking up first happens, it can take some time to register what’s happened. To adjust.
But we do, over time. Inch by micro-inch. And the change never ceases. At least, in my first 22 years of this wild ride, stability has been mostly short-lived.
But what a life. Oh yes indeed, it’s really something. It’s worth everything. So long as you don’t exert yourself in the aching longing. Just relax.
No, really.
So much love to you, my friend.