One of the things we often hear about people who choose a spiritual path in life is that they become reliant upon - even addicted to - outside sources of support - workshops, therapists, healers, teachers, gurus, spiritual experiences of all kinds. I admit I've been no exception. I first jokingly and honestly called myself a "self-help junkie" about 15 years ago. My search for healing and awakening started long before that, culminating in three years of intense self-awareness and healing via experiential training, mindfulness-based therapy, working with healing practitioners, constant reading and research, and regular shamanic healing ceremonies. There was much to be healed, and I hit it hard. And it was hard, very hard; but also incredibly beautiful.
"Suddenly," over the course of about a year of integration, I realized that I'd been spit out the other end into... nothing. Peace. Stillness. Regular life (gasp!). And I started longing for those healing experiences again. I started looking for something in me that needed help. Surely there must be something to work on. I bet I can come up with something.. or if I can't, someone else can... but nothing came. Nothing comes. I'm done (for now). The task before me is nothing more than living life. Nothing to see here, folks. Just being, listening deeply, making decisions, taking action. Regular life.
Healing and coming home to you true self is powerful business. It's potent. Excavating. Painful. Blissful. Transformative. Enlightening. Necessary. It blows your socks off again and again while you fall on your face, then humbly bow in deepest gratitude to Source, to yourself, to the fantastic experiment that is human life. You crawl into your shadows, do the work, then rise and soar - fresh, cleaned, bright, full. Empty. Even with its periods of stillness, the process can be dramatic.
Pretty enticing, huh? If you have work to do, by all means, dive in. As a practitioner, I'm here to serve you for as long as you need.
But eventually, there comes and end - or at least, a pause (the work is never done). Eventually, all those prayers you made are answered, the intentions manifested, the wounds healed, the channel opened. You've put your therapists and other practitioners out of work (unless they're in it for the wrong reasons, your complete healing is their goal, anyway). So now what?
Guess I'll go see a healer, just in case...
Lovingly, compassionately, I say: No!
It's possible and even probable that you're really, truly ok. There's no need to stir up trouble where there is none. Elective surgery is a waste of time, energy, money and focus. A baseball analogy from my mentor:
If what's pitched is a troubled fantasy of your busy mind, don't swing at it.
The truth is in your stillness. Integration begins, continues and eventually settles while you move through the wide open space like a newborn, a toddler, an adolescent, an adult. It's Life. Just you and you, and your family, your friends, your dog. Movies and books. Walks in the forest. Sunrises. Sunsets. Work. Life. It's amazing - the perfection, the complexity, the simplicity of it all. The contentment that is available.
What happens when you are healed? Anything you choose. Turn your face to the sunshine. Feel the breeze on your skin. Listen. Trust. Be in loving acceptance of what is. Joyfully engage with Spirit in this present moment. That piece of work you've been working on is done. New work has begun, and it's Creation.
Spirit is always present. The voice of knowing resides within. Eventually, another layer will peel away and it will be time to take another dive. And so, for now, perhaps this is the final piece of it all, this addiction to needing and getting help. This piece is for you, me, us to watch and work out - play with - on our own. So easy, really, considering what's available in the beauty of just being. Turn your face to the sunshine.
For me, life has bliss as its core. It's my true mode of service. It's simple. It's good. It's genius, really. With gratitude, I say: it's enough.