I don’t have control over the course of my actions. I only have my intentions that are subject to the divine will. But what I do control is how I interact with my immediate reality. Resilience is to exercise of meaning. My duty is to find the truth in everything I go through and to accept it with love because Allaah decided that there was something more important than my plans. So I can either resist and fight the fact that my plans didn’t go through or I can go deeper and accept on faith that because this was an act of divine will there is a better meaning in this for me. And understanding that meaning depends on how open my heart is, how much I humble myself to the fact that my actions are meaningless unless fuelled by divine will.
Seeing the truth of your wounds also shows you the wisdom of the divine will that allowed it to happen. And suddenly the picture changes completely.
When the truth is too difficult and burdensome to accept fully it can be tempting to start doubting your perception, to start fiddling with the configurations, to adapt to less than optimal conditions as a tradeoff for remaining in the shadows. But reducing your brightness level on your consciousness to allow you to remain comfortably numb entails a disintegration of your reality, a fragmentation of your life force. You’re inviting neurosis by refusing to accept your truth unconditionally or to try to warp it to protect your ego.
Being with my imperfections without giving in to the conditioned impulses to deride and criticize myself for not measuring up to the ideals feels like defying gravity I tell you.
The truth is not a resistance of what is. It’s not a feeling of doubt that creeps up on you regarding something you’re actively involved in. It’s a new tab that shows you a different, more evolved reality than the one you’re currently focused on. And then it’s up to you to choose which path you want to continue down. But it’s always clear and distinct, so don’t be fooled into doubting what you know or letting fear avert you from what you gravitate towards.
Reflecting on my most painful memories, I’m starting to realize that what caused me so much suffering wasn’t what actually happened and it wasn’t the fact that I wished my life had taken a different trajectory. It was that I remained suspended in defiant resistance of what was and rejection of what genuinely sprung up within me in response to external situations. So, I rebelled against the divine plan and I rebelled against my internal experience, but the one thing I did not rebel against and remained loyal to was my destructive thought patterns that insisted safety lay in retaining control of life. All these years, I gave preference to the external realities endorsed by society and all the while my potential lay in divine escrow, awaiting my surrender and receptivity.
Pain is a universal tax collector, the tax being on the misalignment of our inner being.
As long as we try to transcend ourselves,
reach for the sky,
pull away from ground and into spirit,
we are heroes carved in stone.
We stand atop the pillar alone
blind to the pigeon’s droppings.
Do not try to transform yourself.
Move into yourself.
Move into your human unsuccess.
Perfection rapes the soul.
I was committed to becoming conscious
as quickly as possible.
Then suddenly, a black hole.
I knew the only solution
was to understand exactly
what was going on.
I read day and night for a week.
Bursting with knowledge,
I leapt into his office.
I knew what was wrong with me
and I knew how to cure it.
I spent the hour elaborating,
He wilted in his chair.
The more he wilted,
the faster I talked.
At the end of the hour,
he silently helped me on with my coat
and took me to the elevator.
With a twinkle in his eighty-year-old eyes
he pushed the button.
If I were you, Mrs. Woodman,
I would take my animus for a good drink.
I was so angry I didn’t even take him a muffin.
If we are trying to live by ideals,
we are constantly plagued
by a sense of unreality.
It is easier to try
to be better
than you are
than to be
who you are.
Perfection does not allow for feeling.
Perfection is not interested
in staying in the body.
It wants to fly,
and you sure don’t get these here.
Perfection massacres the feminine.
Our culture pulses to the pressure of perfection.
To move toward perfection
is to move out of life
or never to enter.
She has foolproof recipes
If strictly followed
(and to follow is to follow strictly),
they guarantee success.
Her real world is the world of things,
things that work efficiently.
She is impatient of error,
having no room for it;
there is no need for it.
Anyone learning under her jurisdiction
will be oriented from the start
to objects and goals,
Her daughter knows herself as a thing,
thinks of herself as an object
designed for high efficiency.
She does not know
her mother’s knowledge
is not wisdom,
is without human meaning,
is without personal love.
Her daughter has no standpoint
of her own.
There is no danger
of her opening
to her own weeping.
There is no danger
of her singing
her own song.
Eventually we have to face the fact
that we are not God.
– Marion Woodman, Coming Home To Myself : reflections for nurturing a woman’s body and soul