I have been through a lot-- too much, actually, to go into depth here. But I am at a loss in trying to explain where I am at now, currently, without first explaining where I have been. Surely, my present will make little sense if not colored by some of the events that have lead me to this very place. And really, our past is not all that separate from our present-in the same way that the last sentence of a great novel is meaningless without everything that came before it.
About ten years ago I had a psychic earthquake that reduced me to rubble. My very foundations cracked and I was left destitute. Horribly depressed, broken, and alone, I made a definitive choice to rebuild. Not knowing exactly what that entailed or how long it would last, blind, I began to feel my way towards recovery. But before long, I found quite unexpectedly, that I had help-- though it wasn't necessarily through friends or family. Strange coincidences began to occur on a somewhat frequent basis. They blew my mind. I tried to explain the phenomena to those around me, but no one had any clue as to what I was talking about. And the more I became aware of them, the more I began noticing them. But even more than that, they seemed to be filled with meaning. They seemed to propel me ahead. They seemed to be trying to communicate.
So I learned to listen to them and trust them like a confidant. They lead me to teachers who would aid me in my rebuilding process. As I followed the synchronicity, I began to notice that in every situation, I could glean something. And as I began to grow and heal, this new world opened up to me and seemingly no one else. Despite all of my egoistic, subversive efforts, if I just quieted myself, listened and followed, I would benefit every time.
Still, recovery was slow. But after ten years of lots of ups and downs, I managed to find a sort of stability. The coincidences lead me to Jung and I read with absolute amazement that many of my experiences were already on paper, detailed to the finest. I found, much to my relief, that others lived a similar path.
Two summers ago, I road tripped with a friend to the Grand Canyon. Halfway, we stopped at an Indian reservation to cool off in the Colorado River. The river was swift and murky, as if some mountain hundreds of miles upstream was melting into it. We walked a half-mile up the river and waded in. Before I even knew it, the current had sucked me in. I didn't panic, not at first, as I treaded water all the while watching the banks rushing by. A huge eddy, the size of large swimming pool pulled me into its clutches. And there, I was left to fight against the current. But I quickly realized that my strength was nothing compared to the might of that great river. No matter how much energy I expended, I could do nothing. For the first time in my entire life, I was utterly and completely powerless. My fate was solely in the hands of the river. I couldn't swim to shore; it was futile. So I gave up.
And its funny, the exact moment I surrendered, the river, like the Great Mother embodied, picked me up in the palm of her hand and carried me to shore. It seems all I had to do was stop fighting and I was saved.
When I got home, I made a black bracelet. Though I wasn't conscious of it at the time, I think it signified my death. Somehow, even though my life was spared in that river, I died. Or maybe my old self, the one that was devastated so long ago in that psychic earthquake, was finally put to rest, leaving a new being in its place.
***
But since then, little has changed. Life, in all its duality, still pulls me in opposite directions. I still find myself seeking, but I have forgotten what exactly I am looking for. Something still lies out there for me-- or within me. In the time that has elapsed since the incident, I have deduced that my whole Colorado River experience was a lesson. It wasn't just a random, scary accident devoid of meaning. No, somehow it was a metaphor. A metaphor for how I'm supposed to live this Life. After all, aren't we all floating on a river, waiting for it to eventually spill into the same vast ocean?
