Bulldozers and Bodhi Trees

Recently someone posted a photo online that really affected me.  I have been unable to find it again and don't remember who posted it (so if after my description you realize it was you, please let me know), but what it pictured, from a little distance away, was a massive bulldozer surrounded by forest, and some feet in front of it, in the middle of a swath of bared earth, a lone figure of a man standing straight and tall as if staring down the metal behemoth.  The chills that ran up my spine were almost identical to those I experienced when I first saw that famous footage of the student facing down the tanks in Beijing. 

The difference was that this was somewhere deep in the jungles. It was not being televised to countless numbers of others.  With the exception of the photographer, there was possibly no one else here to witness, support, or do anything if the bulldozer continued in its path, and therefore no extra social pressure for the driver to stop.  The world was not watching. 

Now, for just a second, with all of that in your mind, place yourself in the shoes of this man...

Can you feel the absolute courage and surrender that is necessary for him to be standing in that spot at that moment?  Of course fear is present too, but stronger is the conviction that this is worth facing death for, and the willingness to let go of everything  he loves and holds dear in this life for one single instant of truth. Nothing else exists at this moment but this moment. The future hovers tauntingly over and around him, with a fork in the river of his life staring him in the eye with a cheshire grin...  ...Okay, so I've experienced this moment...

 Beyond the politics and particulars of this specific situation, there is a mythic dimension that beckons me with the question, "What bulldozers in your life are you willing to face down?"  There is a cycle in my life where things just go along, dum-dee-dum-dee-dum, but slowly a feeling builds, an itchiness for something, and the fabric of my life, which has up to this point formed a seamless background, begins to unwind in the whiffs of illusion that it is, and I find myself at a point where, again, I must let go of the convenient smoke and mirrors of the untruths in my life and surrender to the bigger Truth of existence -- of my existence.

There comes a point when I begin to realize how many false beliefs I am holding -- how their weight drags me down and drains my strength in the heavy toll they demand for carrying them. Egoic beliefs such as how powerless, or how hopeless, or how stupid I am.  The only thing to do, then, is to set them down, and stand there, waiting for my destiny, my Truth, to make itself known -- to find me.  These are simultaneously the most vulnerable and most powerful moments of my life.  This is the shamanic death and rebirth. 

I can't help but think of the story of the Buddha. After unsuccessfully trying every possible path to enlightenment, Siddhartha finally sat beneath a Bodhi tree determined that he would not move from this place until he was either dead or enlightened.  I keep tripping over words to describe this state because it really can't be described, only experienced. But this drive toward truth, the Truth that lies beneath all being, is so familiar to me that I can resonate with the Buddha sitting beneath the Bodhi.

A few years ago I sat in the woods myself for three days and this was exactly how I felt.  There is an undeniable truth of my being --  a part of me that exists beyond time, beyond duality, indestructible and immortal.  My true being, my essence.  This was the object of my quest, to experience, embrace, and become that, and there was no one here but me and the Divine to sort it out -- to hold to the truth and let all that is false fall away.  There was my shaman friend who brought me 4oz of pomegranate juice twice a day, but she and the other three friends who were supporting me energetically were camped some distance away. And, though remote, I realized there was a possibility that I could die.  Cougar and bear sightings in this area were not uncommon. But I was in total surrender, trusting there was purpose, letting go of everything and everyone. 

Synchronistically, last night I attended the monthly gathering where a friend of mine channels Jeshua, and one of things he said was that, if you take the word "alone" apart it says "all one."  There is this subtle yet profound truth here that I have become increasingly aware of, about what it really means to be free.  And I have to admit it scares me to my depths!  At the same time I can see it is really the only path for me and behind the smokey wisps of fear is an indescribable power, and joy, and rightness of being.  To be totally free you can not hang onto anything, or perhaps a better way of saying it is you must hold everything with an open hand -- the detachment spoken of in Buddhism and other Eastern ways.  So the paradox seems to be that to become one with all, you have to be alone -- To realize oneness you must separate yourself from everything you thought or believed.  It is about Illusion and Truth, Fear and Love. 

The tricky thing to realize is that it is not a battle between two equal and opposing forces -- Good and Evil.  Mountain v.s. Mountain as a friend used to say.  The powers involved are Love and Fear, and in actuality Fear is not a power -- it is an absence of power, the absence of Love.  Even that statement is not totally accurate because Love is the only power in the Universe and there can not be an absence of it.  Fear is the Illusion of the belief in the absence of Love.  Fear is not real.  As someone who experienced years of daily anxiety attacks, I can say that the feelings of fear are very real and valid, but the beliefs those fears are based on are not real or true.

During my last big bout with Panic Attacks and Depression a few years ago, I spent a couple months recovering at my parent's home, and every single day I went for a two mile walk.  With every single step I reaffirmed the validity of my feelings and at the same time the fact (despite overwhelming evidence from my overwrought nerves and brain) that the feelings were not based on Truth.

Perhaps this is the price of being an Artist, a Visionary, a Shamanic Practioner, a Spiritual Warrior.  Not so much picking the 'right' side in a dualistic battle, but holding to the Truth -- the Truth you know and feel in your heart of heart of hearts -- no matter what countering demons, fears, and illusions rise against you, threatening your very destruction; No matter how many countless people can not see what you see.  And yet for me it is a choiceless choice.  I can not be any other way.  And I have to acknowledge to myself my own strength and tenacity, because no matter what happens in my life and how down or anxious -- to the point of nervous breakdown -- I get, or how infinitesimally small it may seem, I never lose that grain of hope, that deep, abiding and underlying sense of connection, the sacredness and oneness of All.

Love is real. Love is the only reality.

And as my favorite quote from A Course in Miracles states:

"Nothing real can be threatened.

Nothing unreal exists."