On June 3, I posted this on the UnCommon Touch facebook page:
“Are we *so* sure that we’re not “being real” or our “authentic self”? Are we really looking for “the Secret” of it all? Seeking ‘messages’, a truth, THE truth?
What are you really looking for?”
I wrote this the day after watching “The Master”, the same day where a new client shared horror stories connected to her own involvement with multiple “Masters” and the day before watching Kumare. “The Master” was just, well, eeeww in more ways than one. I didn’t like the move in general despite the usual love affair (he doesn’t know this) I have with Phillip Seymore Hoffman and Joaquin Phoenix (no, he doesn’t know this either!) but the central story just articulated very well the twisted relationships that can occur when Masters meet their tribe.
I’ve spent all sorts of energy trying to massage language so that what I do and how I do it don’t lead people to think of me as a spiritual master. The whole notion just creeps me out. I put out a video about it a couple of months ago, essentially saying that I don’t want the responsibility of telling other people how to live. I mean seriously. I’m a master of my own domain (thank you, Jerry Seinfeld!!) and that level of mastery changes every freakin’ day as my ‘learn something new today’ file grows.
The above-mentioned client that found her way to me (directly connected to another string of wacky events) is someone of a certain culture and age where we just don’t ask how old they are so I didn’t ask. But as she wound her way through her stories, she finally said, “I’ve been searching all of my life.” In response, I asked when she began looking. She replied that she started trying to ‘figure it out’ and ‘find the answers’ when she was 15 years old. Everywhere she looked, she found the hideous side of humans–in the catholic nuns who beat her, the Indian spiritual masters who raped and forced abortions, the family who shunned. And, so after a few minutes of crying and intense waves of energy, I asked, “What were you really looking for?” What she said was, “You.” Now, what I wanted to hear was, “Myself”. I so wanted to guide her aged body (I’m guessing early 70s) off my table and in front of the bathroom mirror so she could see herself in the way I did–with gifted grace, brilliance, and magic of her own that scared those she sought out for guidance to harm her.
Instead, I said, “You know that money you’re saving up to go see John of God? Take a vacation somewhere else instead.”
She said, “How did you know?”
You know my point. Please consider it. Decades lost in a search for the amazingness of oneself at the loss of tens of thousands of dollars, trust, healing nature, safety and self? Is it worth it?