Wisdom initiation

January 8, 2010

David and I had a wonderful discussion this morning, based on reading I did last night in Richard Rohr’s book “Adam’s Return.” Rohr was talking about the necessity for initiation in attaining wisdom. I read that as experiencing an ego death.

Based on reading I have done, ego is absolutely necessary for the development of a healthy psyche. The picture I have is of scaffolding that surrounds a building. The scaffolding is necessary while the building is being built. It’s sort of an exo-skeleton. But once the building is built and the mortar is set, the scaffolding is no longer needed and it is dismantled. The building stands alone. However, the scaffolding has been a part of the building from the beginning. To someone who doesn’t know the process, it would look as though part of the building itself was being dismantled.

To wrench that metaphor into human experience, when the ego is no longer necessary to hold up the building, it needs to be dismantled. However, since the ego has been with me from the beginning, I think of it as being an integral part of myself, rather than as a building aid. Therefore dismantling it (which is done gently, not with dynamite) is scary and painful to me. I don’t realize that the ego is not me, but simply a tool given to me to use, just like my mind and my emotions. It takes time to realize that I am not my mind, not my emotions, that they are parts of my human experience, but not my essence. They are wonderful tools, and terrible masters.

David and I discussed whether we had suffered the shamanic death of initiation. Both of us agreed that our divorce experiences had been that. I went into that experience as one person, and came out on the other side a different person. My next question was whether we experience more than one initiation, and I think that answer is yes – there are big ones and small ones. All my initiations involved “giving up” what I thought was essential.

Going to school - I gave up my family and its security
Going to France - I gave up my country, my language, and my customs and that security
Getting married - I gave up my freedom to act only in my best interests; I CRIED on my wedding night, I was so upset to be losing “me” and so afraid to trust
Having a baby - Talk about giving up freedom!!!
Getting divorced - I gave up my hopes and dreams for our future; I gave up my innocent trust
Being a single mom - I gave up my interests for the interests of my daughter

Each release was painful because of my fear and lack of trust and blindness, but each release brought such joy! To revisit my list:

Going to school – I made friends, I learned to read, I gained independence
Going to France – I got to travel, I learned a language, I gained independence
Getting married – I made a life, I lived with my best friend, I experienced being loved for the first time, I learned to cook, all of which was joyous
Having a baby – her every breath was my joy
Getting divorced – I learned who I was and how far I could be pushed, I owned my strength, I enjoyed my freedom, I discovered spiritual paths that deeply nourished me
Being a single mom – I enjoyed every second of being a mother to my daughter; in addition to that, parenting gave me focus and purpose

I think I can count remarriage to David as an initiation experience, even though it was very peaceful for me. Since our marriage, the theme continues to be to part with what gives me security, to part with things, to part with people, to part with the known.

I am currently struggling with letting go of possessions. I have to remember that regardless of the amount of fear and pain I manufacture when I let go of something, every letting go brings amazing relief and joy and freedom. Right now, my letting go centers on my possessions in storage. If we would get rid of all of that, we would be free to live without jobs for the rest of our lives. We would have to live incredibly modestly, but we could do it.

Bit by bit, I am able to release my possessions, but it is a very slow process. Mostly I clutch each item as though it were essential to my next breath. Only time seems to weaken the psychic bonds to my “stuff.” I finally gave away about 3 bags of clothes a couple of months ago and didn’t feel any attachment at all. This was true even though many were outfits that were connected to hugely important events or periods in my life, which is how they escaped the first cull six years ago.

Although I grieve each parting to some extent, I rejoice in how light I feel as each thing is released.

Here’s the kicker – the last thing I will release is my body and my life. What will the upside to that be?

I have no idea how people write short posts.