Trusting that Still Small Voice

It's not always easy, listening to our intuition. One of the reasons that people often don't pay attention to the still, small voice within is that it will tell them to do things that counter decisions the rational mind has made.

It's the ego-oriented mind that tells us to play it safe, go along, compromise - even when it's not ultimately in our best interest. The ego wants to preserve what is, since the status quo is where it has anchored its identity. The ego is all about maintaining itself - often at the cost of our well-being and happiness.

The intuitive mind lives in the moment, ignores the ego's suppositions about what is known, and occasionally acts in ways that confound egoic logic. Our intuition has access to information that the rational mind does not, which is why it can demonstrate knowledge without derivation.

If we listen to that inner voice, we may find ourselves making choices that seem illogical in the present or to the rational observer. Yet, it is the intuitive mind, tapping into universal consciousness that will take us to our ultimate happiness.

Anti-chaos theory suggests that there is no chaos - just a pattern too large for us to see close up. Intuition shows us the piece of the pattern most pertinent to us in the moment. If we have faith in our inner voice and act on the information it provides, gradually we will see the logic behind that information and the pattern into which we fit. It is only in retrospect that we will understand why it was correct to follow that hunch and trust our instincts.

The Perpetual Night Owl

Why do I find myself writing in the early hours of the morning? What prompts me to start cooking at midnight or decide to redesign one of my websites under cover of darkness? At 46 years of age, you'd think I'd heed the warnings that running on four hours of sleep a night isn't healthy for a body pushing middle age.

Still, there is a hunger to make useful most of the time that has been handed to me in this life. As a young child I feared death not because I saw it as an end, but because I envisioned myself lying in a box for eternity in a perpetual state of boredom. Ever the vivid dreamer, even my nights don't afford much quietude. Awake or asleep, my mind seeks refuge from inertia.

So I find myself seized at odd hours with poetic thoughts that must be documented, desires for eggplant lasagna that must be satisfied, and fears that my time is running out - even if I've 40 more years left.

I fight that ticking tyrant, will it to slow while I figure out who I'm going to be when I finally grow up - this 46-year-old who still feels like a kid on the inside (and most days on the outside, too). I console myself that many folks have made their mark late in life, and that there's still time for me to accomplish some great purpose.

Then, I remind myself of the many small acts I perform that make a difference to someone each day. I resolve to retire for the night... as soon as I water the plants, do a few loads of laundry, and take out the garbage destined for morning pick-up... four hours from now.

Brain Plasticity and the Dangers of "Rigid" Thinking

Reading about the plasticity of the human brain in "The Brain that Changes Itself" by Norman Doidge, MD, drives home the realization of the necessity for varied activity. It's not enough to do well at our usual tasks; we have to continually think outside the box. If we don't, we risk losing areas of the brain that could be devoted to a variety of functions to those that are most predominant.

A simplistic life literally leads to a simpler brain map. If we want to continue to grow new neural pathways, if we want to develop creative muscle and maintain our brains into later life, we have to recognize how clearly the adage "use it or lose it" applies to brain tissue.

We have become a pleasure-seeking society, often looking for the most comfortable route through life. We need to scare ourselves a little, take the path of most resistance, go out on the most tenuous limb. We need to attempt those very things we're least sure we can accomplish.

A friend of mine spent an entire year doing things she "sucked at". At the end of the year, she'd discovered some latent talents, but she'd also found many areas in which she remained unskilled. The great gift of this experience was the realization that her world didn't end when she failed at something. She became far more accepting of herself and appreciative of her own adventurous nature.

Young children seldom think about failure - until uptight adults suggest the possibility - and they have a lot of fun trying new things. If we can adopt the exploratory nature of children, we may benefit not only in our enjoyment of life but maintain healthy brains long into our old age and enhance our ability to traverse more deeply the great inner terrain of our minds.

Poverty

Fill my bowl with empty promises
Take from me my security
There is nothing I can count on
But greater want

At times like this
There is only looking in
To find what's missing
On the outside

Birth the Sacred

Dancing out of desire
Into that holy place

Where you will see past my limbs
That belong to the bonebreakers and birds

Past my womb that will spill for worms
Past the brain that will rattle in its dried husk

To the wind and rain of which I am
To the fire that consumes us all
And makes us back to stars

The ancients watch the dance
Our now their long ago
We light the forever sky


Bonita Summers (from "Digging Up the Bones", to be released soon)

Bonita Summers on Rogers TV

In the Crumbling Tower

It's been an astounding past few months after reading the Eckhart Tolle book, "A New Earth". Contrary to Oprah Winfrey's ecstatic, carefully screened guests, I've not "awakened" and found a beautiful, new world. Instead, my taste of enlightenment has left me in a wasteland of disintegrating ego, otherwise known as The Tower to those of you familiar with the tarot.

During one's time in The Tower, all that one holds dear loses its value, since it is fueled by egoic attachment. Much of what mattered becomes meaningless, and one loses the energy needed to push forward into the external world. Suddenly, a cave and a simple robe seem to be all that's worth shooting for.

However, far from being a wretched experience, The Tower can be very liberating. If you can be patient during your time there, if you can let go and allow the experience to take you over, if you can accept the destruction of the "you" that you thought you were, something beautiful will rise out of the ashes.

No teacher can give you clear directions along the path, since the one you carve is your own, but a good teacher will give you some pointers to keep you from getting completely lost. Adyashanti's "The End of Your World" picks up where Tolle's book ends. It answers the question: what happens after enlightenment? This is useful for all seekers who have had a taste of enlightenment, just enough to start the disintegration of the ego, but have not completed the process (which often takes many years - even lifetimes). Knowing that the apathy and discombobulation are a normal part of the experience is reassuring. It's useful, as long as one doesn't use it to prop up the tottering ego, but as encouragement to go deeper.