Alone on the Journey of Life

Meditation – Friday

Pause and Consider: Alone on the Journey

This morning I am feeling alone in the Cosmos, alone in this world. I thirst for more connection, deeper connection. Of course I have connection in my life, rich connection even: Pat, other friends, my kids. But where I am this morning I am aware that I do not truly sense My Tribe around me.  This creates an existential loneliness – I do not feel really met by others, nor do I really meet them where they are in their depths.

This is not depression, as I felt yesterday morning. Actually I feel grounded, but just very alone. It seems that the deeper I go into my well, the lonelier I get. Perhaps at some point I’ll drop into the underground stream of Oneness, Oneness with God and Oneness with the All. This place I am in now, this place of profound loneliness, is an interesting place to hang out in while on my journey. I am deep into my own well – the well being the imagery used by Ira Progoff and Faye in the journaling work we regularly do.

Yes, this journey of Life has many interesting places to hang out and explore. It’s like being on a long adventure, a safari, surprises awaiting me at every moment. And every moment is different.

What has contributed to my sense of loneliness? Yesterday our Leaders Retreat planning team met. There are but three of us, but it was a struggle for me. We did not seem to be on the same page. We managed, but I was aware of my aloneness in where I was on our theme lecture, Pathwork Lecture 131 that I have been working with of late in these recent blog entries.

Later in the day I finished my Born Again! Blog entry. I dared to share it with one of the team members, but this sharing felt like I was making myself very vulnerable. I was feeling unsafe and fearful, yet I went ahead and shared the piece. This is interesting to me. I write my blog entries, find a lot of joy and peace and clarity as I put words around my experiences with life and with the Pathwork lectures. It is important to write it out and it seems important to me to put the writing out to the universe in my blog.

But I realize that I have lots of ambivalence here. I find I want people to engage me from the level of my blog AND I am hoping no one actually reads it or, heaven forbid, actually responds and seriously wants to engage with me in what I put out there in these musings. So I put it out there and yet in so doing feel naked, vulnerable, and raw.

Just how does one truly connect “safely” from deeper, often very private, places of one’s Soul? I face this ambivalence: longing for people to meet me here by responding, and yet feeling terror if one actually did respond. This is the old story of the moth flying about the flame – longing to connect with the light, but knowing in fear that if it did connect with the light it would be consumed in the flames.

So as we each go deeper on our journey perhaps we each feel more alone, more different from others, more “odd” in a way. I can feel the terror of hanging out in this very vulnerable “odd” place. But nevertheless I continue the journey down my well. In a way I cannot stop myself.

I find that Pathwork is like a guide rope in my well of Life. The rope may end before I drop to the underground Stream that unites us all. Yes, the last steps of the journey may have to be made all alone, with no one, not even my trusty Pathwork, to accompany me.

Throughout his life Jesus modeled this sense of oneness with God – his ultimate guide rope. But in the last moments of his life, hanging on the cross, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me!” Yes, his guide rope – God, Whom Jesus experienced as the Father his entire life – ended and Jesus came to the end of his life all alone.  Or so it seemed to him, and so he shared with us in these recorded words.

I am drawn to more of Jesus’ seven last words from the cross as recorded in the bible and put to music by J.S. Bach and others. The above words are #4, followed by #5: I thirst, #6: It is finished, and finally #7: Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit. Such perfect modeling of this life as we near our death – and Life, for that matter.

As I go down my own well, the Pathwork guide rope eventually ends. I shall likely feel utterly and profoundly isolated and alone – as did Christ. My “thirst” for God, for connection, will likely become unbearable and overwhelming. Finally, my life on this earth will be over,  I can announce, “It is finished.” After my life is finished I shall experience a final surrender and drop into the arms of the Father, of God, or into the Life Stream that connects ALL.

Here I paused to listen to an aria from J.S. Bach’s St. John’s Passion. I Google-searched for “It is Finished,” actually I searched for “Est Ist Vollbracht,” which is the German for “It is finished” in Luther’s German translation of the bible and in Bach’s original German version of this aria. (click here to play this 5-minute aria). I think this is the first time I actually listened to this Bach aria in German where my name “Vollbracht” is repeated throughout. I was quite moved by this recording.

So joyous. So humbling. Finding Peace in my aloneness.

Coffee Time with Pat

In tears, actually in lots of tears, I shared yesterday’s and this morning’s meditation. The tears really flowed as I read the four last words of Jesus on the cross, especially sharing my listening to “Est Ist Vollbracht” experience. These obviously touched me deeply.

In this sharing I noticed another untruth that I needed to examine: I need connection to be happy and fulfilled. This is true at some levels, but not at the deepest levels. I can let go of this image, this untruth!

Pat: This is a whole lot to be with. I let it reverberate in great reverence. I am in awe of the Truth for you arising from within you in this experience. And all this has come about because you have done your work! Gary: Grace, all Grace – God’s marvelous “Plan of Salvation.”

Our sharing about this went on for an hour. Pat had tears come up. I had tears come up. A most precious time.

Shared with love, Gary