Dying to Live

Lights of the Soul

I die every day.

Every day, I die… just a little, letting go of pieces of me which no longer serve a purpose. I must die daily if I am to make room for more. I suppose the “finale” is somewhat the same. This life, this plane of existence, concludes with a shedding of that which is no longer necessary for the evolution of self. What is the point of being, if not to evolve?

While parts are fragile, not all of them can be easily discarded. Some fight to survive, no matter what the costs. Such is the bane of humanity. We are what we are… because of what we don’t let go of. We can become so much more… because of our freedom to choose to let go.

Therein lies the concept of “life comes from death” … not burial, though, but cremation. When we bury what we no longer need, it eventually rises again to haunt us, to chase us down and overcome us when we least expect. Burial is a covering up. But to give the spirit power to set flames to the proverbial flesh and singe out the lesser self… well, that is how life transcends, when ashes begin to transform into fruit..

Let me clean this up a bit. “Death” and “cremation” sound like a finite ending to existing, but that is not my meaning. I am only speaking of an ending in perspective, in self-realization, in world truth as it pertains to the elevation of thought, emotion, and nature. Outside of that prescript, nothing truly dies. Energy transfers from one form to another. We are energy. And when we release that which drains us…that which takes up significant space with insignificant matters… and that which muddies the waters of our fluid, ever-evolving design; we provide room for growth, expansion… transcendence.

Living is this process. It is the active engagement of all of our senses striving to realize the divinity of our higher selves. My son views life as planes of existence which compose the whole of the universal God (whatever you may call Divinity). Depending on where you started, where you’ve been, and how quickly you evolve (and we all have differing capacities at various stages of the spectrum); you occupy part of the universal body of Divinity, either closer to the feet (flesh-based) or closer to the head (spirit-based), for simplicity’s sake. He has an engineering mind, so I find his conceptual outlook rather intriguing. He views physical death as neither a fixed occurrence nor a rebirth experience, but rather a transferring of energy from one form to another, and whether you transfer higher, lower, or make a lateral move simply depends on your level of conscious development at the time your current reality ceases and becomes your next reality. As such, death is not an end, but a means for moving on.

Taking Inventory

I am infinitely more than flesh and bones.
I am infinitely more…

Deeply valuing the energies which compose me; I hold myself to a high standard. But mainly, I just hold myself. For, as much as I am infinitely more than flesh and bones; I am still flesh and bones… and they are a heavy load.

Flesh and bones tempt me to live as “I am,” to carry the weight of merely existing until this life passes. Living as “I am” fosters a – putting up with – perspective which prods the soul to get by via any feasible means until the end is realized. But to live as “more than I am” is to utilize this life as a means to elevate myself and others. It charges the soul with facilitating growth toward transitioning to a higher existence. Walking the jagged path between living as “I am” and living as “more than I am” makes for a rigorous journey. Choosing to be more is a formidable choice. In as much as I strive to keep it all together, I must occasionally fall apart. I must be reminded that I am still in progress. I must stay connected to my mortality, but be careful not to lose myself to it. Taking inventory is necessary.

I check in regularly to ask myself, “Am I living to die or dying to live?” Which is in control at any given moment, the flesh or the spirit? Am I maintaining the desired balance? The answer is never straightforward. How can it be? … as I am flawed from breath to breath, and to achieve progress in this process requires labor on every level. Still, I try. I try intently to see beyond the chaos. I try intensely to feel past the reaction. I try diligently to transfer negative energy into positive energy. I try wholeheartedly to nurture this very basis of ascension. I try quite earnestly to show up as a constant in the ebb and flow – a constant in dying to truly realize living: dying to self to uplift others; dying to fear to embrace freedom; dying to temptation to reinforce integrity; dying to lust to exalt love… In short, I endeavor to die to my lower self in order to empower my higher self.

To empower the higher self is to reflect a depth of truth, light, freedom, genuineness, love, and power which expands without end and permeates everyone and everything around us. The universe as a whole is elevated when we empower our higher selves.

The Deeper Dichotomy

Be divinely human.

Dying to live is not hard. The soul is impassioned by our desire to be more, by our need to manifest purpose, by our hope to live altruistically, by our longing to be love and experience love in its highest form. When we are spiritually motivated, every struggle is worthwhile and contributes to achieving ultimate fulfillment. Dying to live nurtures our divinity and is deeply fulfilling.

Dying to live is not easy. The soul is challenged by our aptitude to settle for less, by our willingness to submit to circumstance, by our craving for immediate gratification, by our tendency to live in fear and attribute love to everything it is not. When we constantly gravitate toward our carnal natures, temptations appear more satisfying than any eternal growth. Dying to live ostracizes our humanity and is quite lonely.

The journey is not the same for any two of us; and yet, we are all affected by these threads in some form or fashion, directly or indirectly, for better or for worse – we are all connected in our divinity, in our humanity, and in our unique paths of development. How we manage the dichotomy of our existence is paramount in defining our lives, as well as the progression of collective mankind.

Finding Balance

I am flawed from breath to breath.
Breathing is significant.

Managing this existence is about finding the right balance internally. It requires breathing in what is needed and breathing out what is not. Maintaining the proper flow of energy is crucial to being centered and focused. However, the balance between inhaling and exhaling can be tricky… if I remember to breathe at all.

Often, when circumstances get intense, I forget to exhale. I draw in deeply and hold. One would think so… but breathing doesn’t always come naturally. Our complex biological design gets tripped up by the esoteric, and the “in and out” reflex becomes stifled. The floodgates open to receive all the stuff… the endless waves of stuff… and failing to employ tributary exits can cause a drowning out of healthy responses and spiritual connections. The spirit must breathe to survive; not physically breathe, but constantly manage the transfer of energy.

We take in so much. The volume is so massive that our hearts and minds become entwined in continuously assessing, judging, feeling, comparing, defending, and ultimately fostering unilateral perspectives; which, in turn, cause us to lose objectivity, understanding, tolerance, forgiveness, and the ability to consider that all perspectives reflect personal realities that differ from our own. Only through such consideration can we even begin to relate to one another.

But, we take in so much. We become consumed in the processing, paranoid in the vetting. We measure morality with our hearts; what feels good and what feels bad shape our compass for navigating life on our own terms. Our minds analyze and break down everything based on these persuasions. When something wondrous or tragic overcomes our circumstance, the common response is an accelerated pulse of emotions; a flood of thoughts and reactions; and an overwhelming sense of anxiousness. When we inhale too much, whether quickly and all at once or slowly over time, and do not allow ourselves to properly manage the intake and release; our ability to thrive freezes up. And, our capacity for destruction multiplies. We start living to survive each moment. In other words, we start living to die.

All of it matters.
Therefore, none of it matters.

How, then, can we manage to experience life as more than a sentence to survive when life hurls so many conditions our way? How can we live without seizing up in so many moments that our journey reads like a lifetime practice of suffocating? The soul must be groomed in altruistic indifference.

Indifference is not a dirty word if it is applied to the relativity of all things. There are a universal place and purpose for everything which exists, regardless of what we think, feel, or believe. If something were not meant to be, it wouldn’t be. Whether we comprehend the reason for any person or condition taking up any portion of time or space, is irrelevant. It all matters. It all generates cause and effect toward an unknown end, but – ideally – a greater one. Therefore, the truest form of understanding is indifference.

I am not referring to the stereotype of indifference, which is marked by stoicism, and often cynicism. What I am referring to is the recognition of life as ebb and flow… a rise and fall of extremes, and everything in between… a consciousness of all that is subjectively fleshed out by the influences of humanity’s singular self-vision. The soul must be trained to see outward and inward simultaneously, embracing the relevance of all and accepting that the only “control” one has is over the energy one personally projects throughout existence. This energy defines one’s quality of life and how one’s life will impact others. Accordingly, we are compelled to think, feel, and believe to play our parts; but we can do so far more effectively once we recognize the relevance of all parts in the grander scheme and free ourselves from suffocating under the misnomer that we have power over anything other than ourselves.

When we know and understand what we can and cannot control, we develop the potential to become a positive force of life.

Sustaining Peace

Be the eye of the storm.

We are surrounded by chaos – worldwide, nationally, regionally, locally, personally, and spiritually. Each of our lives is affected by the storms of existence in one way or another, by a few or many. How we live and how we leave this life depends on how we relate to these storms.

My life, for one, has the advantage of having been infused with all aspects of the storm throughout my journey. I was born into the storm: lost in it; judged by it; controlled by it; abused and abandoned by its many twists and turns, faces and places, truths and lies; and so, I know its suffering well. I have been the storm: unleashing my powerful spin; outpouring my drops of fury; devouring that which has blocked my path; and so, I know its temper, as well.

Having experienced both the aftermath of suffering through storms and the discontent of affecting them; I’ve learned to attain peace by keeping the highs high and the lows low while navigating my spirit through the center. It isn’t a matter of numbing myself to the fluctuations, but rather completely encompassing them all, so that I can become the balance… so that I can be the eye of the storm – the quiet, watchful place which embodies security, strength, and stability, regardless of the surrounding circumstances.

A Complex Choice

Interestingly, the seldom occupied eye of the storm tends to be the most envied; the least understood; the space both desired and rejected at once; and the very center of attraction for everything it is not. It is a complex position to hold.

To be the eye of the storm in life, exhaling is imperative. Chaos and destruction must be released into the periphery. Calming, embracing, loving energy must be retained at the core. Living this life with universal purpose requires constant breathing in and breathing out to facilitate a deeper awareness of self and others.

Dying daily to the unnecessary is crucial to spiritual peace, relevancy, and growth. I choose to live and die and live this way… in hopes that my soul and all that it touches rises in the body of Divinity.

Image credit – http://www.serraphim.com

A Reflection on Intentional Living

My Defining… 

Not so much calculations, but revelations – conscientious estimations regarding outcomes. Before endings become, the intentional ones ascertain the losses and gains awaiting the conclusion of any chosen path. The fallout from wrath; the break of too many mistakes; the accumulated scars which brand their mark after one too many broken hearts; the void when give succumbs to take; the bite in the air when the room is full, but no one’s really there… are all reasons for each of us to be subconsciously awake and moving, thinking, speaking, acting and being intentionally. Always sharpening the blade…

I don’t believe in chance. I believe we are each designed by the Creator for a purpose. And so, the universe engages us constantly toward that end. Whether and how we choose to engage with the universe is the only questionable variable. Life can just happen to us, and we absorb, defend and protect; or run, hide and curse; or maybe react, fight and regret… or perhaps find ourselves utilizing all of these responses in some form or fashion along our way. However, when we enact authority in our existence by premeditating good outcomes, thoughtfully restraining, lovingly interacting, and considerably processing how the worlds of those around us are impacted by our choices, in addition to with what we fuel our own existence and its ultimate meaning as our personal piece in eternity’s puzzle; we are enforcing a phenomena intuitive in nature… one that wealth, fame and notoriety cannot conjure. Although, knowledge and attractiveness often do empower greater influence, enabling one to more effectively walk out whatever lies at the base of one’s heart and soul – one’s truest motivation for breathing.   

I have a proclivity for intentional living for various reasons. One being, I do not react well to the unexpected outcome; and, I have no desire to contribute to any untoward end. When life constantly throws you for a loop and your point of reference is unstable, bitterness and skepticism begin to take hold and reshape the posture of your heart. However, cynicism is a faulty shield, as the spirit is genuine and knows what the flesh may not willingly reveal. We all suffer blows in this lifelong sentence and scramble to secure ourselves in our own ways. While walls are constructed to keep harmful inquisitions at bay, mainly they simply keep us locked within, smothering in our own reason, fear and anxiety. Such seclusion takes courage for a species created to love one another. Yes, courage, because as love-based creatures, the decision to be disingenuous, reactionary, solitary and unwaveringly formidable as an island of one is against the very grains of our spiritual sculpture. This lends to my second, more evolved reason for intentional living… it is what the aware spirit is called to do. One may remain faultless if unaware, but there is no peace for those who know better and choose to submit to a haphazard life, steering recklessly, if at all, toward no defined end, no greater good, and no enlightened cause. I cannot in good conscience carry that burden, and so, I choose the other.   

The intentional life is indeed burdensome. It can be quite uncomfortable, quite overbearing, quite offensive and most deeply humbling; and yet, it is the most bountiful and altruistic path. This complex journey is full of oxymora. Inconsistent variables meet the constant spirit and we find ourselves compelled to acquiesce or flee; compromise or abandon; succumb or break; love or feel less hate. In sum, we either subject our power to the world by letting conditions and circumstances dictate the stability of our being or we subject the world to our personal God-given power by infusing our intentional energy into every effort we commence, experience, and conclude. 

Half the Battle… 

Unleashed from before 
Spirit readied for war 
Subjected to earth’s dominion 
Influenced by man’s opinion 
Wearing its heart of armor 
The soldier and the farmer 

Credit: Paul Woodward 2010
Credit: Paul Woodward 2010

In this lifelong war, we each play a part in attaining fulfillment and influencing the fulfillment of others. As the champion, the victim or the passive observer; we each make choices based on our strengths and weaknesses, conditions and circumstances, reach and immobility, minds and hearts, bodies and spirits. And as we begin to measure our grounding and those things which have the power to shift it, we realize that intention is only half the battle. One can mean well without having the assets to walk out good intentions. We must know ourselves, what we believe in, what we believe our purposes to be, and have some type of reference for the opposition that we will be met with on our journeys. This is the launching point for self-direction; self-direction, as opposed to being directed by the world. No matter how we arrive to this battlefield, we will be tested, prodded and beaten… some beyond recognition. Without a solid foundation, with a weakened spirit, we are unable to rebound and focus; and the world will prey on us, leaving us incapable of walking out our inherent designs. 

In our core, we all desire peace, happiness, companionship and satisfaction, but not everyone can utilize or even understand the means for achieving these goals from a pure point of origin. Temporary gratification, living in the moment, sacrificing oneness for systematic symmetry, sacrificing sanity for survival, sacrificing thoughtfulness for self-preservation… these are all challenges to our ability to evolve the posture of intentionality into the practice of sowing and harvesting. There has to be a realization beyond the innate will of the heart. There has to be an application of our heads, hands, feet… our entire being in order to achieve anything close to true fulfillment in the purposeful life. We must hold the seeds in our hands and actively plant them; as we sure up our armor to stay the course. We must be farmers and soldiers to have any hope in finishing victorious. 

This is not the torch I’ve always carried. While my life before my now had always been somewhat off-putting, I didn’t understand why. I simply tried harder, submitted lower, cried longer, prayed deeper and fell farther; wrestling with the demons I didn’t know I had; holding on to destruction I didn’t know I granted; denying all of the purpose I didn’t know I carried. Thus, my journey began… 

Dimly Lit… 

Yesterday danced around me like a crisp winter’s night. 
The darkness was deep, the stars were dim, 
and the warmest of blankets could not ease the chill in my bones. 
Still, I peered so intensely at every glimmer, every flicker 
of brightness against the backdrop of existing 
and tried to glean something bigger than life 
from the burn left behind my eyes. 
But I could not see at all. 
I chased the lights blindly, until the moon grayed… 
and the stars became ash… 
and all the spark of being left me. 
Having wandered too far for too long, 
I fell limp upon the universe and surrendered 
all I had ever hoped and longed for 
into the black hole it had fashioned for me. 
Diffused and disengaged, I closed my eyes 
to mourn my soul and put its journey to rest. 

Surrender is a humbling phenomenon. At its depth, you expect nothing good to come of it. After all, you are giving up, submitting, acknowledging your utter failure at self-sustaining survival. At its height, you expect nothing worse to emerge from it than that very moment which caused you to discard the last sliver of hope that once whispered to you. The consummate paradox, surrender overwhelms you with the intense release of everything you have ever felt into a wounded numbness of letting go. It is the wake and the burial in one, and demands to be grieved. “I can’t, I won’t, and it hurts too much to care” make for a sufficient mantra to protect one’s shredded remains through the process.   

For me, surrender led to something divine occurring. I was drawn out of my perspective of searching to realize my purpose in becoming. As I began to unfold the complex tapestry which cocooned me in darkness, I started to see that I was the light I so desperately reached for in the world. My soul wasn’t destined to be extinguished, but reborn. My light wasn’t meant to be acquired, but revealed. And I urgently needed to understand that, while there are many forms of illumination, not all light shines in the same way or for the same reasons. I wanted to be more than a graying moon or diminishing star. My flame was exceptionally molded, and should be used to draw into its warmth the chilled bones of others, running through winter’s darkness, chasing falling stars.   

I had fallen broken and shattered, a victim of my own inability to see, and God reached in to convince me of to whom I belong. My existence became dimly lit and I began to pursue my own light, an energy which took me completely out of myself, so that I could be redeemed, rediscovered, restored and released. And I soon realized that I can, and I will, and it hurts too much not to care. I was reborn. I would make it count. 

Dancing in the Fire…

As the flames rose up, 
she watched her coals char into oblivion. 
Her fiery fortress melted away the useless layers 
until the burn revealed the jewel, and there within her heart
glistened the crown of her refinement.

I believe an exceptional life is marked by a challenged mind, tested will, and labored heart. By choosing to emerge from a defeated spirit, with these elements intact, I had no reasonable explanation for living anything less than an intentional existence. A life with purpose should be lived purposefully, even if the meaning is still elusive. It is that vague sense of knowing which called me to submerse into the fire of living with abandon in faith. This statement says so much about the commitment I’ve made to live intentionally, and it proves that anyone can.   

I am an introvert. I am a fixer. I am a perfectionist. I am a loner. My greatest fear is a broken heart. My greatest difficulty is to truly trust another. My greatest peeves are to be unprepared, unknowing, and unworthy. Well, the irony here is that my definition of intentional living goes against every fiber of my learned being. Intentional living is about reaching out; touching others; accepting brokenness; allowing disappointment; sharing of self – deeply; investing one’s heart entirely; trusting a higher hand in my encounters; and, most certainly, engaging a faith-based life with limited preparation, little knowing, and a posture of unworthiness. As such, to be the person I believe I am designed to be, I have to abandon everything comfortable to me in order to run into the center of all that threatens to burn me, and do so with a peace of spirit which relies on refinement over demise. I have to dance in the fire, be the fire, and spread its flames to ignite others.

Holding to the Flame… 

Had I thought about it with my head, 
I’d have likely put the thought to bed; 
but, lo, it’s set within this heart, 
emerging labor into life’s art. 
Thus, though the ash will leave its stains, 
I’ll cling eternal to the flame. 

By no means does such passion and faith shield me from the other elements. I have been smothered with tainted soils, doused with unforgiving floods, smote with overpowering brass, and incited by false airs. Being committed to affecting takes its toll. And since intentional living comes from a hopeful place, a center focused on producing the best outcomes, influencing positive energies and believing in the power of nurturing wounded spirits; it can create a veil of overzealous naivety. I’ve discovered that people tend to react to me with two extremes; they either view me as “too good” to interact with from a place of truly genuine expression, hiding who they really are based on their assumptions regarding who I am; or they view me as susceptible to manipulation, providing an opportunity to be taken advantage of based on my determination to identify the greater value in those I encounter. Not too long ago, these labels bothered me and I could feel myself walling up… taking a protective stance against the lens of the world. But I’ve realized that the greatest misnomer is making oneself accountable for the misperceptions of others, if they simply choose to see what they want to see. This is undoubtedly where intention gets a little tricky. While I can control how I approach the world, I cannot control what the world chooses to do with my efforts. As such, it is quite easy to feel defeated.   

Familial relationships, romantic relationships, professional relationships, service relationships and daily exchanges with passersby have all deeply challenged my commitment to walking out intention from a “glass half full” perspective. Of particular note, tremendous strength has been poured into managing the disappointment associated with dealing with those who propose to be of equal measure, professing to intend well and desire good, only to reveal that they either have no concept of what that means or have tritely attempted to take me for a fool. 

Ironically, I find that even in the worst of these cases, a positive effect still emerges somewhere down the line. Something supernatural transforms the base composition of most human beings when, in spite of their ignorant, malicious or decidedly passive contributions to the discontentment of others; they are intentionally met with grace, mercy, forgiveness and hope. As painstaking as it may feel in moments of dealing with combative energies, holding to that inner flame which compels me to burn truer, brighter, and longer to achieve a higher end is more than worth the struggle. If this is a foreign concept to you, you must test my claim that anything you do – any end you seek out – in love will bring a mysterious calm to your senses, a far greater peace than avoidance, than denial, than defensiveness… than blindly navigating throughout life. This choice offers a deeper peace because it stabilizes one’s center – one’s point of reference – with good roots, and constantly strives to spread that goodness into the hearts of others, regardless of their state of being. The resulting effects may not be clear, may not be immediate, and may – in fact – never be witnessed by you, but you have engaged and influenced in good conscience, with undeniable intention and, if nothing more, have deposited something beautiful and productive into the universe.

Here I stand, the lioness lamb, 
roaring aloud 
my tender heart. 
I’ve hunted through the wilderness, 
seeking out 
the sacred parts. 
As I approach the journey’s end, 
I know 
what sets apart; 
one who not only finished well, 
but intended 
from the start