Monday, March 31, 2008

On that which cannot be spoken about

I have a stack of about 15 books next to my bed. All of them are in some or other state of being read. I think a lot of it is to try and find words to articulate some of the things I've experienced lately - to find a way of making sense of them so I can somehow communicate that which has had so much impact on my life. The other reason, I think, is to make sure that I don't forget. And then there's trying to put it all into perspective - where to now?

In the past two weeks, two books really stood out. The one is "Soulcraft" by Bill Plotkin - "crossing into the Mysteries of Nature and Psyche". In this book I came across the following:

True art has nothing to do with impressing or entertaining others with pleasant or stunning creations: it's about carrying what is hidden in the soul as a gift to others. However we embody our souls in the world, that is our art

So how do I embody my soul and what is hidden in it? I think I'm starting to find what that is - but how do I express it? Perhaps it's not about putting it in words, but rather communicating this by being who I am?

The other is one of those rare books that I simply could not put down. Through his honesty in retelling his journey I'm beginning to understand what it means to "carry what is hidden in the soul as a gift to others". This book is a gift. It's called "The Dance of the Four Winds" by Alberto Villoldo - "Secrets of the Inca Medicine Wheel":

...our rationalization of things ephemeral, our intellectual framing of the transcendent, the thinking brain's version of the Divine, was just another mask of God. That all expressions of God, like the word itself, formed in the brain of language, were merely thoughts about that which is beyond thought.
No. Before thought.
Before consciousness itself. To speak the name of God is to name the unnameable, to carry a concept of the Divine within our heads is to carry a shield between us and the experience of the Divine...... It cannot be thought about. All notions of God are blasphemies. Things that can be known but not told.


I'm starting to realise that much of the past few months has been a process of finally putting my theology to death. Letting go of what I think I know, the false security of belief, and stepping out into the wildness of experiencing the Divine. Moving in to the realm of that which cannot be told.

It's funny - when I started this blog I was hoping for an audience so that I could say some of the things I felt were important. Now as I write I feel that the real audience is the person who's typing all of this ;)

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Why I cut my hair

For around 16 years I've had long hair and a beard of some description. When I visited Vietnam the people there used to call me Jesu Christu. I've always identified myself as the guy with the long hair and the beard. I guess this was just me. I always felt it suited me and my beard took some of the attention away from my nose, but it was also a good place to hide.

I was on a weekend retreat of sorts a few weeks ago. One of the subjects we spoke about in the morning was on dying and how the Indian warriors used to say "today is a good day to die". I was walking outside afterwards and two of my very good friends called me over and said "today is a good day for a haircut". I of course came up with all the reasons in the world as to why it wasn't such a good idea. They suggested that it was the key to moving forward, and it was the only way I was going to change the way I see myself.

To be honest, I felt angry. What right did they have to pry into my life like that and challenge something that was so much part of who I was? I eventually just walked away and tried to avoid them. But something had been triggered in me and I knew they were right. My reaction to them was a voice I've come to know as my ego - holding on to all it can to survive. I knew it was time, and if I didn't go through with it I would stagnate as a person - stuck in the past and the image I had of myself.
I decided to phone my wife and checked with her how she felt. I could hear that she was unsure - like her husband was becoming a Buddhist monk or something, but as usual she stood by me. Once that was sorted I went to my friend and nervously told her she could cut my hair.

So - there I sat, at her mercy, while my head was shaved. Once it was finished I'm not sure what I felt - but I went down to the sea and washed all the loose hair off, baptising myself. Next was my beard - I wasn't too keen to get it shaved off with my hair, but it looked really silly with short hair so I shaved it off - with just my razor and no shaving cream.

It's now been about 3 weeks with short hair and it’s been very good. It took my daughters a while to get used to their 'new' dad, and my colleagues at work put up a missing poster on the front door. I was also a little nervous going overseas as my passport picture now looked nothing like me. Other than that, I feel a new freedom. Something inside has changed.

I had a look through some old photos and saw a picture of the old me with the 'Jesus' look. I realised with a bit of sadness that this person had died. He was a good guy - but like a caterpillar needs to die to its body in order to learn to fly - I needed to do the same. I’m also really grateful for some really good friends who cared about me enough to see what it was that I needed to do.

Friday, March 21, 2008

Reflections on good friday

“The wind blows where it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the spirit.”

Today is Good Friday. In the Christian religion, this is supposed to be the day when Jesus died. Having come from this tradition and having spent a large part of my life studying theology and teaching about these things, I thought I'd reflect a bit on this.

The typical interpretation of this event is that Jesus died for the sins of the world, that he was the sin bearer, the sacrificial lamb. The usual evangelical Christian interpretation of this event is usually that people are 'sinners' and cannot access God because of this. God then sent his son, Jesus, to die in our place. Now in my early teens this meant a great deal to me, that I could no longer have to worry about whether I would go to 'heaven' or 'hell' when I died because this had now been sorted by 'the blood of the lamb'.

This started to bug me a bit, though, later on in life. Was it God that needed the sacrifice, or was it people that needed a scapegoat? I started thinking that perhaps it was the latter - that it wasn't so much that people needed someone to save them from an angry God, but that people needed ‘saving’ from their own guilt.

This would probably explain why Jesus was able to say to people that they were forgiven long before the crucifixion event. In fact, when you look at it, it was this that started to really piss off the religious people of his day – the fact that he went around telling people they were forgiven. His whole message seemed to be built around this – ‘The kingdom of of God is at hand’ – ie. ‘All the fullness of life is available to you, change the way you think about yourself and believe this good news!’
This has usually been translated “repent and believe the good news” and most often taken to mean “be sorry for your sins” – but I think “repent” is a very bad translation, because it implies penitence, whereas the Greek word ‘metanoia’ means to change your mind.

So – perhaps the message of Jesus was really all about freedom – that God (or The Universe, Life, the Source of all Being) doesn’t have anything against us – so go and live to the full! If there’s anything that you’ve done that you feel prevents you from experiencing this – then sort it out, make amends, but certainly don’t see it as God holding it against you. Be Free!

Now whenever I start talking like amongst religious people I get myself into trouble. If one looks at the life of Jesus - his biggest opposition wasn't 'the devil in the wilderness' but the religious people of the day. This is why they had no choice but to kill him – it was the only way they could nail him down because he didn’t fit into their religious box where they could control him through fear. You can’t control the wind!

So reflecting on today I need to remind myself that this man, Jesus, doesn’t need to be defined by the religion that named itself after him. I also come to the conclusion that I want to live just like he did – so full of life and love for others, and a passion for freeing people from the illusion and lie that we need this or that to be Good. Being born of the spirit of Life – I too want to be like the wind – free and blowing where I please, without religion or guilt weighing me down and preventing me from delighting in this dream we call our lives!