What happens now?

Now that I’ve seen though every illusion created by my mind:

What am I now?

Now that I’ve seen through every story of “me,” and realized that there’s nothing underneath?

It’s all a grand lie, all just a fiction created by my mind—and this realization leaves me paralyzed, as my soul free-falls through an inky black void of nothingness, a dark and terrifying night, a dark night of the soul.

In this dark night…

I am blind, and yet, I realise that I saw only illusions before…
I understand nothing, and yet, I realise that I only thought I understood before…
I have lost all control, and yet, I realise that I was never in control…
I am lost and alone, and yet, I realise that my “self” has always felt this way.

In this dark night, all the pieces of my “self” are ruthlessly and brutally ripped into nothingness, leaving me raw, naked and exposed, floating in emptiness, where reality flays my being, and the more I resist, the more it hurts.

And I do resist, because I’m not ready! I’m not ready to let go of “me.”

So I remain trapped in this dark night of the soul, clinging onto the last fragments of my “self,” fearfully refusing to give up and become what I already am.

I crawl through my days, my feet dragging through the toxic black tar of my resistance.

I scream though my nights, squirming in nightmares of death and dying. I dream that I fall off cliffs, I am crushed by mountains, I am buried alive, I am cut into pieces. My “self” dies a thousand times in these nightmares, but I always wake up the next morning.

I am still here, but who am I now, without my beliefs, ideas, dreams and illusions…without my “self”?

I have lost everything.

Love, joy and laughter become distant and unattainable fantasies, as I stumble around inside my dark night of pain, despair, sadness, anger and fear.

I can’t live with my “self” anymore, so I just want to die.

I plot and scheme on the various ways to kill myself. But it doesn’t feel right. The reality of who I am doesn’t want to die, and can never die. No, I just want my “self” to die. And it is dying, but it stubbornly clings on, gasping in its last death throes, refusing to dissolve—even though I blatantly see through the illusion that it is.

I am exhausted by my “self,” exhausted by its insanity.

So I writhe and sob on my sweaty bed, a slave to the babbling thoughts in my head, a slave to the rampant emotions in my heart.

I see the insanity of it all, but I can’t stop the torturous thoughts as they erupt into the nothingness that is me—the non-stop fears and insecurities, the circular thought patterns on a constant loop in my head, telling me I am unworthy, a failure, unloved…telling me I can’t trust myself or other people, telling me life and the future are hopeless and doomed.

Everything my “self” tells me is a lie. So I fight with as it thrashes and screams inside my head, trying to maintain its existence, by driving me back into the insanity of self-hatred and illusion that it embodies.

It knows it is dying, so it becomes even more aggressive, feeding me illusion after illusion, spinning a sticky black web to ensnare me, so it can feed off my soul and keep itself alive.

But I know it’s not real, and I am so tired of fighting and resisting, that I just want to kill it, but I no longer have any strength.

And then, deep down, a spark of divine wisdom whispers quietly in my heart, telling me that I am keeping my “self” alive by fighting it.

I know have to let go of my resistance. I have to let my “self” be, in order to let my “self” go.

The only way out of my dark night of the soul is into it. With complete and absolute surrender.

The only way out, is in.

So I fall to my knees and open my arms wide, fully inviting the darkness into my heart, as I willingly sink down into the black void of despair.

I allow the dark night to swallow and penetrate every inch of my weary soul. I allow every belief, every illusion, every stab of pain, fear and self-hatred. I allow it all to soak into me, and I watch compassionately as it washes and rinses my soul clean. I open even wider, allowing every remaining spark of my “self” to be extinguished in the darkness.

Because I understand that the dark night is my doorway into the freedom of what I already am.

And then, when I have become the dark night that I am, and the dark night has become everything that is, I open my eyes in the darkness—and suddenly, I can see.

I see that I was here all along, underneath my “self.” I was always here! Always home.

And I am beautiful, unblemished and perfect. I am the love and wholeness that I was seeking. I am the freedom and acceptance that I craved. I am the entire universe, creating itself moment after moment, unconditionally expressed and accepted. I am all of it, part of it, arising as this form to witness the love and acceptance that I am.

I see that my dark night of the soul was part of that love too. Even my “self” was part of that same love. It is all accepted, all part of the same loving awareness that creates and embodies the universe.

My soul vibrates and hums, as I realise that I am home, where I always was, and where I always will be. It’s all here, in me, whole and complete.

Why was I so attached to “me”? Why did I hold on for so long? All it ever brought me was an illusion of safety, an illusion of knowledge, of control, of wholeness, of love. And my belief in this illusion only brought me suffering.

Beyond that illusion is the mystery of life unfolding in unconditional acceptance each moment. It’s the life that I am, and life that I witness, simultaneously arising as one. And as I embrace the wholeness of each moment, I blink my eyes in wonder, as a new dawn of love and freedom blinds me with its brilliant perfection and completeness.

 

 

 

Author: Georgi Bond

Image: Flickr/Spacedance

Editor: Travis May