Like many angst-ridden goth-wannabe teens, I had a viscous streak of suicidal ideation.  It started through an innocent fascination with death, and before I knew it, I had actually named my suicidal thoughts “consumption”, as they were truly becoming all-consuming.  I wrote poems and short stories, and invariably, the main character would off him/herself in some dramatic fashion.  I was insanely drawn to dark art, films, books, etc. – anything that brought me into the deep reaches of the lowest imaginable notes.  I loved the dark side and shunned the light, often in a literal fashion (I was known to actually put aluminum foil on my windows to keep out any shred of light, at all times.)  As I got older, into my early twenties, this became a full-on obsession.  And yes, I played the role of a happy-go-lucky college student, which was in part quite genuine, but I was far, far more fond of that tortured, pain-ridden artist.  Alienated and misunderstood.  Really freaking serious about finally taking the bull by the horns and seeing what this afterlife business was really all about.

I know now, and knew then, that I wasn’t really serious.  It was just a game, just a role that I happened to have a true affinity for.  I did trip up a time or two in my effort to make others believe the dance, and came close to actually doing the deed.  But grace wouldn’t allow a tragic mistake.  Either that, or I’m smarter than I thought I was.  Whatever the reason, I’m still here, and as time wore on, the role got old.  I transformed into someone more fond of the higher notes.  I recognized the immaturity of my dark world-view, and started adopting something I deemed far more authentic.  Ayahuasca, too, helped kick out the old dark obsessions.  She showed me tangible results of what indulgences in such so-called “negative” forces really does.  Yes, it’s all divine.  Yes, it’s all God.  But I don’t have to live my life in complete desolation and misery.  And as it turns out, it’s way, way more fun to giggle and frolic.

Yet there’s a constructive, wonderfully uplifting aspect to my suicidal past.  Now that my path is more clearly illuminated, I suspect there was way more at work back in those days of consumption.  On the surface, it would seem that I was simply a sad little teenager, falling prey to the self-pity trap, and indulging in a role I really wanted to be true.  By claiming myself the wanting-to-die goth-girl, I kept the world at a distance, and freed myself from vulnerability.  I never had to admit to what I truly felt, in any moment, because I was too busy playing the part of the wanting-to-die pixie.  That’s not to say that I didn’t want out – sometimes in the worst way – I just know I over emphasized my sincerity, because there really was none with regards to the actual finality.  I have always, always loved living.  This is why I gravitated to all that dark, gut-wrenching expression – it actually made me feel.  And in a very real sense, that was living to me back then.

Today, I am a profoundly joyful woman very consciously on the path to enlightenment.  And lo and behold, there’s a hell of a lot of talk about dying in this beautiful game.  Enlightenment, it is said, represents the chance to die before you die.  To allow the very possibility of death, so one can lay down the ego and actually experience the true nature of who we are.  How exciting, then, that I get to bring back the old role.  Only this time, it actually has to be genuine.  But I’m not out to kill myself, really — I’m out to transcend the story of myself.  This is WILD.  And WONDERFUL.  Full circle doesn’t even cut it.  I’d like to think that old me was really on to something.  That I was playing out this desire for liberation long before I ever knew what it was, and what was possible (not that I really know yet – the finger is just pointing ever closer to the moon.)

There’s even more delicious irony in all of this too.  All of my enlightened teachers caution that suicide is not a viable choice.  This puzzled me at first, because as I hear them speak it, once you self-realize, you recognize that this is all a dream-state game.  So why would one’s choice of an exit actually matter in the least?  I can’t say I know know, but this is starting to make sense.  The state that you are in when you finally do exit your body is integral to the experience you create when you reach the next state.  Whatever that will be.  I’ve heard others express this before and it has (and still does) confused me a bit.  That means to me that if I’m struck by a car tomorrow, out of the blue, and go out in a state of traumatic resistance, I’ll immediately be thrust into a similar repeat.  Seems a little unfair to punish the unaware, right?  Well, there’s the rub.  There is no such thing on the highest level.  In other words, if that is my fate tomorrow, I had that in the cards all along.  I, the higher self, the master of this manifested existence.  It may not be my time to “wake up” and become enlightened.  It may in fact be a life that I need to learn more lessons seeped in trauma.  Of course I hope this is not the case, but hope doesn’t amount to shit in this game

So where’s the moral of this story?  First of all, kudos to the old self for recognizing that the willingness to let it all go – to truly die – is actually a golden ticket.  And even more kudos for having the wisdom to not actually do the deed – to just cultivate that willingness, and continue the game of the dream-life.  Nowadays, I choose to nurture the willingness to detach and let grace lead me where she will.  Pranananda has said to me before – Your life is not your own.  That’s starting to make an amazing amount of sense.  It does not belong to the egoic self that wants to drive the boat.  My life is the divine.  It is not, and can never be, my way.  Because “my”, in that little ego-sense, doesn’t even exist.  And so I shall enter my Tantric meditation tonight, in full willingness to embody my divine-identity Kali, and drop the story of me in the most complete fashion available in this current energy realm I’m swimming in.  That is to say, I’m off to die.  Or at least to practice.

As we noodle down the treacherous and oft overwhelming path ala enlightenment, many of us pound our heads against spiky walls out of sheer paradoxical frustration.  It seems every luminous enlightenment being speaks a different language.  Sometimes it feels like no one is really pointing at the same moon – that this is all a crazy game with no real ending.  That there is no such thing as realization at all.

And yet, when dropping the logical constructs of the mind, there is more than just a something there, drawing me into its womb-like clutches.  What is it, really?  I don’t know.  But I’m learning one alarmingly simple yet devastatingly challenging way to get there.  I have a lot of wise teachers feeding me equal doses and beauty and bullshit, and in their cryptically direct banter, I’ve found one radiant consistency.  Mac said it this weekend, and I’ve heard Pi and Pranananda say pretty much the same thing – whatever (or whomever) you choose to get you there, it doesn’t matter.  Just surrender.  Completely.

Just.  Surrender.  Hah.  Just like I (think) I know what enlightenment is not, I’ve uncovered a million ways / reasons / opportunities to *not* surrender.  I have never fully surrendered to a lover.  I never surrendered to authority of any kind – parental, priestly, etc.  Ayahuasca, though she’s given me no reason not to, has never felt me hand it *all* over to her.  There’s always a shred or more held back – just in case.  To keep the illusion of control.  To have a tether into this world, into my mind, in case this is all just a load of baloney and I give away everything – thoughts, heart, breath, life – for a naive, selfish notion that there’s something more.

But here’s the rub.  I have been granted a whole gaggle of spiritual experiences.  Ayahuasca has shown me the primal energies from which I came from – the golden threads that lead all the way back to the beautiful nothingness.  Huachuma showed me my true God reflection in the face of a sacred stone in Peru.  I have *almost* dropped the “i” now on several occasions, becoming the all – and feeling what it is to be the movie, the projector, the observers and the space in between all three.  And no matter how strong my ego becomes, no matter how much that uncertainty wants to scream out her cautions – I don’t believe them.  I don’t believe much of anything anymore.  But I do know there’s more beyond what “I” know.  

I can’t stop what’s coming.  It’s inconceivable to me to go back to the unconscious self.  I’m not really in the state of seeking, but I sense with an insatiable magnetism that there is more to know.  I travel deep into my heart space an unequivocally realize there’s nothing else for me but this.  Not awakening itself, necessarily. but the walk to greet her.  The willingness to own my divinity.

Mac told us last week to stop calling this enlightenment – to hold it as liberation instead.  This facilitated a great shift in me later that week – I came to know in every cell that absolutely nothing about me has to change in order to awaken.  Nothing.  I don’t have to be less egoic or more pious and meditate 20 hours a day or eat raw vegetables with unsoiled hands.  There is nothing I have to do or be, because nothing about me dictates this liberation.  It was a massive relief, a huge opening that allowed me to feel whole and complete.  I could have hugged myself.  Instead, I stared at my reflection in Orion’s beautiful eyes and felt the truth.  This is who we are.  And it’s in those eyes that I found a key.

This game is all about surrender.  And while I understand it doesn’t matter what you surrender to, as long as you do it completely, I realize my mind isn’t going to accept just any authoritative illusion.  I intend to work on surrendering to everything and everyone in every moment, but in order to amp up the game, I’ve chosen two very specific targets.

One is obvious – ayahuasca.  I’ve danced with her almost 2 dozen times now, and I know we have more time to know each other.  I can conceive of a complete willingness to surrender to her chaotic yet nurturing strength.  But those opportunities are scarce – a few times a year or so.  Still, I feel in my heart she can take me there.  I know that *anything* can, it’s just that I feel I can convince my mind to give me one minute of freedom – to hold her breath, and that of my body, and surrender to death by the vine, in order to let light in.  Yes, we can do that.

The other is, in many ways, far more terrifying.  I’m in tears just feeling the very real willingness, and the very real fear – the former from heart, the latter from mind.  I will surrender to Orion.  Not him as a human, per se – as an unreal ego – but as my connection to Shiva.  I can’t remember a single time in the last (almost) year that I’ve known him where I’ve been able to see anything but his greatness.  I have never known a more pure and unconditional love.  I trust his intention, I trust his own connection to divinity – and so, I can’t shy away.  We’ve started practicing tantra together – a very respected yogic path to enlightenment – and I feel as though. . .well, we’re on to something.  It’s both thrilling and horrific.  Whee.

Kat – the name I have for my little egoic self – is so fucking scared of this.  But in a moment of incredible clarity this weekend, I was able to pacify her long enough to open a huge portal for us.  I gave him complete freedom to be who he is.  I dropped the restrictions previously agreed upon in our bond, with respect to sexuality, and asked him to just be.  Integrity is still integral, but rules no longer apply.  And although I shake at times when I realize what this could mean, I also know that this is part of my divine surrender.  I trust the universe (me) to manifest the best possible outcome for us both.  But if I tell God I want it my way only, there’s nothing else He / She / We can do but give it to way I demand.  I’m past that now.  In this relationship, I will not be ruled by fear.

So there I’ve done it – dropped all sense of security and yet, at the same time, promised to throw my all into surrendering to this, my partner and love – the God that he is, and the God that I can allow him to show me.  Kat is so fearful she’s barely uttered a protest.  It’s paralyzing and beautiful.  There’s such a rightness to this act that I feel a glow inside, way deeper than any perceived tremble.  

I want and deserve my pot of gold, should the universe see fit.  And I’m showing Her I’m willing to drop *all* attachments to awaken.  I guess that’s why they call it liberation.  Just the act of doing so makes me feel so much closer.

Calling for my soul / At the / Corners of the world – (Tori Amos)