In last week’s blog, I commented on the rightness and restfulness of finding the middle ground between extreme choices. Because this balancing act is being played out presently in my own life as survival and thriving, I am sharing something I wrote in 2005 on this very subject. As a perspective-setter, this written reflection from the past reveals deeply rooted patterns of behaviour (pitfalls) and echoes their cry to be noticed and peeled back, layer-by-layer, until their essential message is exposed and understood. Reflecting on one’s history is time spent growing the wisdom to not repeat the mistakes of the past. Hence, why writing remains such a profoundly transformational tool.
March 2005: My attachment to the physical or material world, a personal
pitfall on my spiritual path, has cycled through my experience more than once.
This attachment shows itself in my relationships with people as well as money.
And I would say the source of its continued manifestation brought awareness
that I, for most of my life, sought security outside of myself.
Only through spiritual journeying have I ventured to explore my own inner
life and resources as opposed to focusing on other people and external
accomplishment. As I gained clarity in understanding myself and what the
journey of life truly provides, I built a fairly solid inner foundation. This
is evident from the clearing away of loneliness and emptiness including co-
dependent relationships. In fact, I feel most solid in this area of living. The
people currently in my life reflect my own inner solidity, steadiness and ease.
The Law of Attraction is working instantaneously and exceedingly well for me.
Cause and effect are definitely in sync.
This blessed ability to attract the right people in exactly the right moment is
just as profoundly appearing with regard to my creative expression. Since
September 2004, I have been writing (more like channeling) a book, which has
been an extraordinary gift to me in countless ways. The writing of the book is
a refinement process of my inner experience. As each chapter is completed, I
feel the closure from having “come together” within myself. It’s like the fine
weaving of a Flemish tapestry. Although I know the picture is me, I have no
blueprint of it nor could I sketch it, and yet the threads are being drawn together
and as I watch and write I see form emerging. Admittedly, for the first time in
my life I am not in charge of who I am to become. I explain this uncertainty by
saying, “I know, but I don’t know.” Surrendering the shaping of myself to
Creation’s genius is both exciting and tremendously unnerving. And yet, I
wouldn’t “go back” to who I was. So, to this extent, I learned to trust Life
and self.
Having said that, it took all my accumulated financial resources to lay the
groundwork for this growth to be established. Over the past eight years, I
cashed in RRSPs on three separate occasions to allow me to continue on my
spiritual path. With each withdrawal, I suffered a “dark night of the soul;”
a strong indication of my attachment to money and my fear of not ‘having/
being enough.’ Each pass through this pitfall abated but did not quite
eliminate the fear. Interestingly, paid work always emerged in just the right
moment carrying me through to the next financial withdrawal. Eventually
even those sources of sustenance began to dry up. I rationalized why . . .
because it is important to complete the book without distractions. However,
a repeat performance seems to be playing out, and I find myself wrestling once
again with the destruction of the past (financial security) to enable the
transformation (inner security).
As you read above, my pattern of feast or famine held me captive in a web of extremes from which I have been gradually untangling myself. Releasing my attachment to desire and ambition (money falls somewhere between the two) has me now living life one day at a time and engaging the resources of abundance from the universal coffers. Both my relationships and my creativity have greatly benefited from this collaboration. As human beings, we have a peculiar relationship with money, one I am attempting to understand. Now is the time to balance the “all or nothing” of our economics.
As I acknowledge and accept life’s offerings (even if I wouldn’t have planned it this way), I discover life’s homeostatic nature is a wise teacher. Too much of anything is not a good thing. The desire and drive for excess creates imbalance and disease. Typically, this necessitates clearing negative energy (blockages of fear) from our bodies.
What is your relationship with money? Are you caught up in the illusion that it provides security? What would a balance between surviving and thriving look like in your experience?
