I did an eye gazing meditation a couple weeks ago. During it, I experienced projected visions on my partner of what can only be described as four of my archetypes, or past lives. I often hallucinate and have visualizations when I meditate - it's almost always like a journey or an adventure of some sort - but this is the first time I've had such a clear showing in such profound detail in a meditation before. It was astonishing.
With each projection came a full transmission. First, the warrior: at one with the land, a master of her territory, compassionate, fierce, embodied, both protected and protective, armoured and larger than life. Second, the pirate: hustler, street-wise, clever, adaptable, smooth and charming, instinctive. Third, the innovator: refined, relatable, creative, observant, has a universal understanding of the way the world works, fantastical, wise, empathic. And finally, the child: pure, wondrous, amazed by the mystery of the world, awe-inspired, innocent, gentle and soft, vulnerable, honest, joyful.
Seeing these four archetypes play out before me has taken on a dozen new meanings a day, but by and large the biggest meaning is that we are more than just brief moments in our current life. I am more than just my spiritual journeys and the catalysts that have seemingly impacted my direction in life, no matter how evangelical I'm capable of getting about them. I am a culmination of every single flower from which I have sucked nectar, of which there are surely a thousand. I am all the places I've ever lived, and all the destinations I've traveled to. I am the moments that have seen the wildest ranges of my passion unfold and I'm the most tragic experiences I've endured. I am the in between and the edges, the depth and the surface. I am both my mother and my father's daughter, and my older sister's younger sister, and I am also a warrior, a hustler, an innovator, and a child.
Last week, my mentor and I took the symbolism of these archetypes into an even wilder dimension of interpretation by looking at the order in which they appear. How it's no coincidence that the blurriest of the visions and the last of the four archetypes was the child, the essence of which is the area of consciousness I'm moving through right now: curiosity for the sake of being curious, the not knowing, wonder and awe. The ultimate surrendered inquiry into the state of the "right now" and it's absolute perfection. Like the goddess Sige, from silence, wisdom is born.
I am a woman who has, for likely a variety of reasons, created an identity around having all the answers. Not having the answers always felt unsafe, and so in order to continue to feel safe and in control, I just learned to be a know-it-all. This prize-winning girl-scout preparedness is something I've often prided myself on, and I used it as a means to feel superior to people who don't have their shit together, to be better-than, to justify my judgments. I often relied on the disparity between us as a gauge to measure my own successes.
Meanwhile, I'd find myself triggered by other people's pendulum swinging, frustrations, empty complaints with no solutions, indecision. I'd feel tortured by it all, and make that torture about them. It's the most likely place I'd be found passionately rescuing and enabling, because the torment of their not knowing was simply unbearable - I even used that torment as a trigger to fuel learning even more, becoming an even bigger master of whatever trade was on the table, therein creating a larger disparity. That must mean more success, right?
Perhaps not so ironically, I also detested other know-it-alls, in all their certainty. How could they be so SURE, anyway? I felt like they robbed me of my opportunity to wonder about things, to feel what felt right, to know its truth in my whole body and not just on paper. Throughout my life I'd find myself time and again stuck somewhere between abhorring the earnest philosopher and being a skeptic of the scientist with all the answers; the ultimate battle of heart versus brain, instinct versus intelligence. Alas I have found my own pendulum upon which I swing.
This is ultimately why I began traveling. It was almost like enforced respite from the burden of knowing. Tastes of the innately curious child wanting to come into consciousness, provoking her out in swift bursts by deliberately launching myself into the unknown. Freedom, at long last. But only for an instant.
Our trip to Georgia was a collision of two worlds of sorts. An environment where I typically lean into the unknown and where I'm now paid to know and be deliberate so that others can lean into the unknown. I felt the friction of this position the moment we arrived. It worked me throughout the trip as I told myself stories of needing to be prepared and do things on purpose to facilitate the ultimate experience for our clients. By nature of that setup I found myself in a constant state of alchemy: transmuting the unknown into knowledge and then wisdom happened faster than I had ever experienced it before.
It's fitting that I'm now consciously moving through the stage of the child more wholly and more deliberately than ever before. I've made some really big mistakes in the past couples weeks in various arenas of my life, and have amazed myself by the extent to which I'm willing to consciously punish and persecute myself for my flaws and imperfections, for my not knowing better. How truly vulnerable it is for me to say, and repeat, the words "I don't know" and "I fucked up." I've also realized how freeing those words have become. How I finally, truly, trust the innate raw power of not knowing, and the beautiful perfection of making mistakes. The inherent and exponential growth and wisdom that comes from each.
From this space of not knowing, I've found that there are only ever two possible answers to any inquiry I make, and in those answers, time appears to be relative. There is either true, or untrue, and they only ever apply to right now. Alas, I have finally found approval in apparent indecision: it only seems that way from the outside, but from the inside it could very easily be momentary truth.
I suspect this is where the real adventure begins...