When I read through old diaries from my past (they sit, crammed into a red plastic bag, stuffed in an old cardboard box, gathering dust in the corner of my bedroom), I notice how often the theme of disconnection occurs.
Over and over, life seems to be free flowing, smooth and full of joy; then I sense “the winds of change again”, and my world shifts as I free fall into a downward spiral of heavy thinking. This generally involves making molehills into meanings into mountains.
The crimes and misdemeanours “committed” by those that I love, which gave me reason to feel disconnected, were imperceptible to the naked eye. They may have spoken in a tone that jarred, or looked at someone else in a way that left me wounded. They may have laughed less when we were together. They may have failed to speak the magic words that I most needed to hear when I was pre-menstrual and feeling fat… Honestly, there were no reasons, good or bad, for me to feel this cut off from life.
Truly, I feel for that twenty-thirty-something gal. She had fundamentally misunderstood where her experience of life was coming from. It looked like she was reacting to events outside of herself, but, in truth, she was always and only ever living in the feeling of her thinking.
If I could whisk myself through time and space, I would call her and meet up for a cup of tea and a chat. And during this casual conversation, I would scatter seeds of truth; share with her the real facts about how we work that might pave the way for a lighter life. Because, honest to goodness, somebody should have told her a little something like this:
“… You are better than you think, because you are not what you think – you are That which thinks. These winds are simply ever changing seasons of thought breezing through your mind. They come through us, uninvited, lingering longer only when we entertain them as something of substance. But they are no thing. And you? You are the stuff of life; born of the same thing that makes grass grow, trees bear fruit, sun shine and the world spin. How can you be switched off and separated? You are life itself…”
Nothing can possibly be greater or separate from the whole. Only the ego suffers such delusions
Sydney Banks, The Missing Link (page 71)