BEING SPIRITUAL MAKES YOU BATSHIT CRAZY

Have you ever wondered if your spiritual efforts are of any use? I mean, is there really a point to any of it? I wonder the same thing almost every day. Which is why I invite you into my psyche (not psycho, psyche) for a quick visit. I wouldn’t stay very long or things will get a bit weird. I hardly know you.

As long as you promise to get in and get out, I will open up the curtain to the inner workings of my mind. Think of it as a bizarre meetup group that you wish you’d never gone to.

But seriously, I hope you enjoy this pointless, fictional illustration of the ups and downs of being on a spiritual journey. After you read it, I’m sure you’ll agree that you should just give it all up and become a professional poker player.

________________________________________________________________________________

Armed with my oracle cards, rain coat and reusable coffee mug, I begin to ascend my Mt Everest of UNWORTHINESS.

Halfway up, I stumble, twisting my ankle (AGAIN DAMMIT!) over a rock called BIG TIME DADDY ISSUES.

I keep going and walk it off—the swelling isn’t too noticeable. It looks like I stuffed a loaf of bread in my sock, but nothing a constant amount of pressure can’t improve.  

Fast forward (because this is already boring): I’m hanging by my fingernails from the summit. “Um, Universe a little help?”

“Just let go!” he yells down from the top.

Really? Well, I guess I could give it a little trust and faith and all that. Here goes: I LET GO.

Plummeting towards the earth at break neck speed, I start to panic.

“Build your wings on the way down? Who the fuck thought of that plan?!”

Just as my nose is about to hit the bottom, a majestic flying horse gallantly swoops me up. We ascend into the heavens once again.

Ahhh…God is great. I feel so alive! What a beautiful view up here. ALL IS WELL.

I feel at one with everything, especially with this strong horse! I feel so much love and I could kiss everyone--EVEN the jerk who stole my seat at Starbucks last week. My heart is as warm and fuzzy as a box of kittens.

I’m too drunk on love to notice that my winged specimen of grace has tipped forward. He drops me from a height of 1000ft into a predator infested jungle.

Umpf! I hit the ground, flattened. “Thanks for the ride, four-legged one!” I squeak. He’s gone. Well, that was rude.

Lying on my back I think, I could really go for a plate of fries right now. This spiritual survival shit makes me hungry.

After a few hours of shaking my fist at the powers that be, I gather myself up and step through the mud, past snakes and unidentifiable deadly creatures, looking for shelter. Eventually, I come upon a Rabbit. Peter Rabbit, I assume.

I feel a real kinship and begin to tell him my problems. He blinks and hops away. Snow White, I am apparently not.

A couple of miles and a bad case of poison ivy later, I come upon a cottage. This is it! Just like in The Shack! I’m saved.

I go inside and a lovely woman with long red hair greets me. She gestures to the chair by the fire and hands me a mug of tea. Smiling, she says, “You need to practice being grateful, my child.” She is about 35ish and I’m middle aged. Awkward.

“Mother… er … can I call you that? I assure you I’m very grateful for my life. Like the time I fell from the summit of Mt Everest, being thrown to the ground by a giant winged horse and crawling through Poison Ivy with low blood sugar. I am eternally grateful for these mind-bending opportunities. But when does it start to get good?”

“It’s all in the way you look at it. It’s either a failure or a learning. Everything is happening FOR you, not TO you.”

Hmm … so if I punched her in the mouth, it would be FOR her. I mull this over.

Presently, I fall asleep by the fire, with visions of violence dancing in my head … all through the night not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

I wake up in my own bed, in my normal apartment, on a normal Tuesday at normal o’clock. Had it all been a dream? It couldn’t be! It was too real.

Then I remember I have a Chakra Reshaping appointment scheduled for ten! I throw on my yoga pants, grab my double latte and run out the door. Today is a good day and I’m very grateful to be alive. Grateful mostly that my dream was just a dream AND thank goodness I don’t have poison ivy. That shit is terrible.

Posted on June 15, 2018 and filed under personal transformation.