continuous travelling, Devil, dislocation, fear, inner guidance, inner knowing, meditation, mind stories, nomad, nomadic life, nomads, nothing wrong, Pat Cegan, prayer, religions, Rumi, sense of place, The Beloved, The Father of Lies
From Don: I’ve reblogged this post from Pat Cegan’s wonderful blog
Source Of Inspiration
Pat Cegan’s poem Be Not Fooled really spoke to me:
Even the greatest is but
a foot-servant of the Divine.
When the Force is with you, only
you know its call for each must
discern, trusting that the Creator
reveals what we are ready to know.
Trust your own inner knowing above
all else. Do not be fooled when
the servant downs the master’s clothes.
There are many deceivers and more
fools. Do not fall victim to their
deception or foolery. Stay in your
place of knowing; guard well your
connection with the Divine.
Over the past six months I’ve realised that travelling all the time, with no physical home to return to, has resulted in a profound disturbance in my sense of place: not so much a sense of loss, or of isolation, or of loneliness, but of dislocation, that shows up as vague worries that usually arise in the early hours of the morning. The only thing that works to bring me back to sanity is prayer and with that comes the sure knowledge that I am continually being guided and shown what I need to do next as long as I take the time to stop and listen to that guidance. What follows comes from my “Morning Pages” writings in February 2013:
“I woke up as usual worrying about something or other and I finally got to the place where I wanted to remember the truth of who I am and stop believing all the lies my mind tells me. I have to remember to keep praying for that so that I don’t keep falling back into believing the lies.
That’s the message: to trust my own inner knowing and not to be pulled or pushed off course by the opinions or the judgements of others. To remember too that it’s all okay, that there’s nothing wrong here, that we’re just being done, and that there’s just this: this moment, and whatever appears to be going on in this moment, world without end. My worries recently have centered on my body: what if I get sick, what if I contract some awful tropical disease, what if, what if? Then I come back to trusting that whatever is meant to happen will happen and that whatever is not meant to happen won’t.
So I’ll come back to trusting again and again and to remembering who I really am: spirit having an adventure in a human body, seeing the world and engaging in the life of that world to the best of my ability. There’s never anything wrong here as long as I keep remembering who I really am, and praying helps me to remember that.
I can feel the resistance to embracing fully who I really am: the mind does not want to lose control of the little kingdom it has ruled more or less successfully for the past 70 years. Religious texts call the Devil ‘The Father of Lies’ and they got that part right, but the Devil is not some external entity, not some fallen angel, not Lucifer. The Devil is the mind and the lies that it tells to have us believe that we are something other than holy, other than spirit, other than God. The Devil is the mind that tells people they are no good, that they are born evil, and that there’s nothing they can do to save themselves. The religions of the world have supported these lies and made them tenets of faith: that God is external to, and vastly superior to human beings, and that people are fatally flawed and can only be saved by throwing themselves on the mercy of God. What makes no sense to me is the belief that human beings have been created in the image of God, but made less than perfect. What a bunch of nonsense. Why would God, who is the creator of all things, who is all things, create anything less than perfect? What kind of egomaniac would create something in its own image that was imperfect, just so that it could feel better about itself? That’s a story created by every religion to maintain control over the masses that have chosen to worship one god or another.
Only the esoteric spiritual traditions speak the truth about who we really are, and such traditions appeal to a tiny minority who are willing to take responsibility for their beliefs and their actions.”
Alison just interrupted my writing to read me one of Rumi’s poems:
In Truth everything and everyone is a shadow of The Beloved,
And our seeking is His seeking
And our words are His words
We search for Him here and there while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side, we ask: “Oh Beloved where is The Beloved?”
I couldn’t have said it any better. The last line of Pat’s poem is especially pertinent. Guard well your connection with the Divine. When I find myself too much caught in the mind stories of fear the answer is always to return to presence, trust, prayer, and remembering who I really am.
Photo of the day: Offering to the Ganga.
© Alison Louise Armstrong and Adventures in Wonderland – not just a travel blog, 2010-2013.