At times, I miss being a fish... (And other random thoughts on Awakening)

I’m starting to understand why most of the world is asleep.  In fact, at times I wish I was among them.  I’m not sure if my own awakening was optional in this lifetime, having been born pretty close to the veil.  Let’s face it, I was never what you might call a normal kid.

But sitting here, age 60, in a strange way, I long for the life I might have lived, had I been more like my sister, or hell, like basically everyone else in the world.  I wonder what my life would have been had my ego remained intact.  Would I have loved with all of the typical attachments? Would I have achieved a sense of power and wealth in the physical realm?  Could I be happy - peacefully sleeping in form?  Suffering, no doubt, like everyone, but feeling more connected to myself, my story, my circumstance.

Instead, I find myself sitting in a beautiful house in the OBX, with my ego identity floating in and out of form.  This is an odd space, and a very an odd way to live. This morning, for example,  I noticed the smart thermostat on the wall here and thought perhaps, I should put one in my house.  Suddenly I stopped,  literally stopped,  to ponder if I currently have a house.  I do.  But in that moment, I honestly wasn’t sure.   In my defense, I’ve moved countless times over the last seven years - I’ve had numerous houses, townhouses, and condos, occasionally owning three at a time.  I’ve also rented several apartments and currently hold leases on two.  I’ve lived in RVs and vans, even a minivan for weeks at a time. And as I write this today, I have not seen the house I own in over 4 months.  Yet still, it feels odd not to remember it. 

In the course in these musings, I recognize that I also have no attachment to anything in it.  Beautiful art and music boxes inherited from my dad, furniture, photos, and a vast collection of orchids, they are not me, and literally play no role in defining me. They exist in their own right, currently 1,500 miles away. Of course, they are beautiful and protected by me, but if the house burned down tomorrow, I would simply walk away.  There is nothing that I need there. Nothing there which serves to identify me - as me.

Yet, there is nothing here to hold my identity either. I have rented this house for a week and nothing in it is mine. Essentially I am sitting in the space of Awareness, feeling that I have quite literally fallen out of form. 

I wonder at times if I’ve had a psychotic break. But accord to Google, I have not.  Google defines the term as having lost touch with reality and having no ability to distinguish between what’s real and what isn’t.  Of course, I am well aware of the physical realm, it’s roles and limitations.  I am aware of what’s expected and how to engage appropriately.  In fact, I am what you might call a high-functioning  responsible adult.  I have three adult children, three grandchildren, and an 820 credit score.  I know how to play the game of form.  I simply have no interest, attachment, or sense of connection, to it.

Living in this state is odd, to say the least. 

The practical realities of life after a true spiritual awakening - after fully shifting your sense of “I” away from the ego and to the infinite, is not discussed enough.  Many offer advice on the path to awakening: there are teachers, books, videos etc.  Yet too few offer any guidance at all about adjusting to life post awakening.  

As our global consciousness shifts, and more and more souls enter this space, there is a tremendous need for guidance here.  What, for example, you do once you get there?  Honestly, all spiritual pursuits should come with warning label! 

For better or worse, the road is long and cluttered with detours. And the truth is, most of us will never arrive at a true awakening, choosing instead to stop somewhere along the way.

Some will dabble briefly in the outer realm of spirituality, taking a yoga class or being to meditate.  Others go deeper and step into the metaphysical realm.  They practice Reiki, Tai Chi or Qigong.  Some will push on to reach Shamanism, experience astral travel, or deep meditative states.  Others will spend their lives exploring mediumship or psychic development, perhaps venturing off into the study crystals or astronomy.  In some ways, they are the lucky ones, at least in terms of continuing to peacefully exist in form. 

In my experience,  those who stop with metaphysical arts, find that this energy and a life of form will happily coexistence.  I become Jessica who is also psychic, also a medium or perhaps a Reiki master.  My egoic world is enhanced, (not diminished) and supportive energies, such as angels and guides are added to the mix.  At this stage of the journey, I realize that there is more than meets the eye here.  I develop my craft and find new ways to understand the spiritual realm. My sense of I, however, remains unchanged, and for the most part, I continue to function as a happy outlier in the physical world.

Beyond this space, however, the road becomes increasing rocky.  The ego begins to bounce around in the most uncomfortable fashion.  The dark night of the soul creeps in, and you find yourself in the mist of losing everything you’d previously cherished.  Relationships vanish, friendships end, possessions are obtained and quickly given away. Everything it seems, simply falls through your hands.  I, for example, gave away my dog, my cat, my furniture and clothes.  I struggled with depression, anxiety, and isolation.  I lost both of my parents; my father to suicide and fell deeper into the abyss.  

Who are you without the labels you’ve carried since birth? What does it mean to be a daughter once your parents are gone?  This is clearly an uncomfortable place.  Yet, in a strange way it too remains an ego struggle.  I - Jessica am depressed.  I - Jessica am lost, anxious, confused, etc.  As hard as this space is to navigate, the ego remains intact.  Battered?  Yes.  Bruised?  Most definitely.  But I - Jessica know how to be depressed. Depression is a form state.  And for most of this dark night of the soul phase, your form identity remains clearly attached. 

Until … it doesn’t.

Suddenly you are no longer depressed.  You are no longer anxious. In fact, you are no longer I - Jessica at all.  You are simply I.   There is peace.  There is the vast nature of Awareness. But there is no longer an intimate relationship within the ego of Jessica.  Of course, form remains.  There is memory and history.  There is a house I own, but have not seen in over four months.  But if it burned down tomorrow, the I that I am now, would feel no sense of loss.  I would take nothing from the ashes.

This is the space everyone strives for, but no one warns you about.  

For those who dare to look back, it feels as if, form has simply fall away.  As if I have witnessed my own burial, and no one attended the funeral.  My ability to experience the highs and lows of the ego realm seems to be gone,  Romantic love and attachment, special relationships, and all the decorative labels of ego we wear through out lives, hold no value now.

It has all been replaced. There is space.  There is peace.  There is a sense of completion and oneness.  There is an incredible lightness of being. But the I that I am now is no longer mine, and mine alone.  

The I that I currently am is as vast as the ocean. 

 But in a small, small way, I miss being I - the single sleeping fish.