True Spiritual Path

This is the time of year when the Chinese water torture of kids at home over the summer vacation reaches its peak.  There’s got to be a classification of madness in the Physicians Desk Reference for the trauma inflicted on an individual when not able to finish a string of thoughts or even put one together.  Sadly, I join the millions of parents who have only thought fragments lingering in their head with no clear purpose or conviction.

I tried giving false confessions to make the torture go away. “Osama is in the hills between Pakistan and Afghanistan.  Yes ring pops are a great source of vitamins and we will buy more today.”  But the drip of interruptions and stream of friends moving through the house never ends.

One of the few comforts I have is 12 step meetings.  As my addiction and dependency issues are flip sides of the same coin, I hit both an addict meeting and Alanon as often as I can (around 6x a month).  It’s a chance to hear others in some incredibly raw honesty and also to ramble without the fear of judgment.  One of the ways I always felt judged was when well meaning people would give answers.  I don’t need answers, all I need is the chance to confess what’s inside and the answers will be there.  That’s the genius of Bill Wilson, one of the cofounders of AA.  He provided an environment where sharing without “crosstalk” allows for the natural spiritual process to happen.

Anyway, it was at one of these meetings that I heard the words come out of my mouth that I resented my kids for taking away my mind for the summer.  No sooner had I said it, then the judgmental voices in my head gasped, “Why you ungrateful (expletive)!  How could you?”  This of course had the affect of shutting down all avenues to God for at least a couple days.

With some time to reflect, I came to the painful realization that I still carried around this myth that I was going to get “my life.”  It was a bargain I made with God growing up . . . “I’ll put up with this suppression, knowing that someday I’ll get mine.”  But “mine” just means the chance to take care of myself, not control my surroundings at all times.  And the irony is that kids distracting me from my perfectly controlled universe is “my life.”

The Tao says, “You cannot overcome the forces opposing you by struggling now.  Accept this and still yourself.  Self-discipline preserves your strength for use in a more beneficial time.”

Yesterday a friend of mine, Jose, said to me, “Jeff, look at your feet . . . do you see them?  That’s where God has you right now.”  My mind shifted from the elaborate plans in my head to the simplicity of the moment.  I was immediately sad feeling the loss of the “my life” dream.

Never ceases to amaze me though . . . the stuff I still have to let go of at this late stage.  Shouldn’t I have done this by now?