Integration As A Spiritual Practice – Part III

Question 3: What did I learn about life, reality, or existence?

This question is about universal truths, insights about consciousness, purpose, interconnection, love, suffering, and meaning.  What really matters, and what doesn’t?

A little background about me:  I was the second-born in a family of 9 children who were all born over the course of more than 20 years.  I remember peeling potatoes for 8 to 10 people, setting the table for 8 – 10.  I remember heated conversations between my older sister and my father, where she provoked his temper relentlessly with her bold declarations that went along the lines of, “Well that’s not fair!” and observations like, “Well that doesn’t make sense, because you just said…”  I don’t remember how those conversations ended.  Maybe because I left my body and sent my soul elsewhere until things calmed down.  The supper table was not a place where I felt safe or invited to engage, much less to express myself.  My body stayed in survival mode and I remained vigilant for cues I would need to protect myself and stay in the good graces of my parents.

So for me, the idea of being part of a group where I share myself and negotiate differences in perspective, needs and belonging is moving from the theoretical into real life as I move through my weeks looking forward to sitting around the table with my coffee group family.

I mentioned false starts in the first of this blog series.  Some time ago I realized I could tolerate, and even enjoy groups if I was the one leading, organizing or teaching them, because it is easy for me to set and communicate parameters, envision and create group safety, direct the course of a discussion, and switch the focus of what is happening when I sense things are heading down a destructive path, or even a path that I don’t prefer. 

I had learned to equate being safe with being in charge.

This is why, when conversations in the coffee group late summer last year led to the planning of preliminary psilocybin test groups, I eagerly volunteered to be a “sitter” who would be present while the most experienced individuals tested dosages and products.  I assumed this would make me the leader.  From there we began to imagine and prepare, arranging venues, sharing expectations which involved more people, who were naturally excited about the prospect of being involved, and suddenly things started to turn into a very different animal.  And I was uncertain what role I would be playing.

Then came the flurry of text messages where I quickly realized that I was not actually the leader of this group.  My feeling about the whole thing quickly changed and after quite a bit of prayer and thought, I withdrew my offer.  The venue that I had arranged quickly fell through, and the medicine men, who indeed were the core of the group, would need to start planning again, from scratch.  And I was not at all certain if I would have any place at all in their future plans.

The tone of our group changed that fall and winter, and the topic was mostly avoided at coffee.  I wasn’t certain if the damage I had done could be repaired.

Looking back, I can see how I stepped up with intentions to be a leader where it was not appropriate or desired by the group that I do so.  And the Universe showed me, through this somewhat embarrassing and public situation, that it was time for me to allow someone else to assume a leadership position, and I would need to trust them to do it their way.  Very new.  But also very important for me.  

What I’m learning is that for me, the most challenging part of being in a group that I choose to be a part of–and that I’m not leading–is that I do not have control over the timing or much of anything else, and that I have to wait and trust and allow things to unfold in their own time, their own way.  I’ve learned that I can actually do this, and that it is well worth the effort when I can.  In fact, it turns out to be 10-100 times more fun, in the end.

What did I learn about life, reality, or existence?

I learned that if I trust, wait, put down my checklist, my carefully curated plans, my tendency to be in control, my pattern of being the one in charge in order to feel safe–other people gracefully and appropriately step up.  Things work themselves out.  I learned that I will receive the guidance I need, and I can open myself to the gifts, contributions, wisdom, beauty and goodness of others.  And that when I do this, things become even more fun, more nuanced, more profound, and more impactful for everyone involved. 

I learned that whatever I love alone, I love at least ten times more when I collaborate with others.  This is true when I am part of a village, when I see myself as someone of value who belongs, when I admit and declare without shame or guilt what I want, when I see myself as someone who can receive support and good things from other people. 

It becomes my lived experience that I’m not the only person I can count on.  I become a person who knows what it feels like to have all the skills I need to navigate relationships with both men and women who are heart connected, and are in relationship with Spirit and their own Greatness.  I become a person whose life is enhanced by this willingness to wait and allow, this practice of opening to the contributions of others and the magic of flow.  And maybe most important of all, this feeling of trust and belonging to humanity that comes with the full palette of embodied emotions and the willingness to risk sharing myself that make it all possible.

I am beginning to allow into my experience the awareness that I have been too terrified to risk rejection, and that this fear has kept me functioning as a person who is primarily alone in the world.  Nonetheless, it is time for me to take the risk.  To let go of control, because if I don’t, I will have missed out on so much.  So…

I wholeheartedly desire to be a person who sometimes leads, but more often is supported and led by loving forces beyond my own knowing.

Come back next week for Question 4: What wants to die or be released?