Balance
I love the people in my life that send me deep things to ponder first thing in the morning. This morning I was gifted a thought by one of my dearest connections— a moment to pause and consider the totality of life. He shared a comment on a Reddit thread with me. The original thread involved someone expressing their feelings about a cancer diagnosis and learning that they have only been given months to live… and then there was a comment that reminded readers that death is a rite of passage for life and mentioned that being alive is the only thing that can cause suffering. Somewhere in the response the author poses, “Who knows what secrets of the universe are unlocked when you aren’t constrained by a flawed human body.”
What secrets, indeed. And perhaps those secrets have something to do with our ability as infinite energy to be and hold and experience more than one thing. Our bodies are not death sentences, they are vessels which contain the infinite in a moment… an infinite that will continue after the body returns to the earth. We are the both/and. Body and spirit. Both are holy.
As I thought more about what my friend shared, I wondered if I would want to know that I was sick and dying. Sure, we are all dying from the moment we are born… but would I want to know that I only had months to live? I think there is also a holiness in the knowing; a way to walk mindfully in growth, a chance to heal connections, an invitation to live in authenticity, and an opportunity to savor the full flavor of life. We tend to appreciate things deeper when we realize we are running out of time. These moments of deep appreciation, love, and bliss are pockets of transcendence where suffering is paused and we exist in a moment of pure connection. Energy is attracted to other energy; like a gravitational pull. I have experienced these states of communion with all that is during breathwork, meditation, and sitting in ceremony with plant medicine. There is no doubt in my mind that that feeling of peace and being is at the core of spirituality. It’s the desire to capture those moments of transcendence— the place where suffering is paused and we can exist in love. Sure, I want that. But it is my deepest wish to get there without a diagnosis that tells me I am running out of time. I hope to unlock how to access that space and operate from it for as long as I can.
When I was younger, I used to think a lot about heaven. The church I grew up in painted a picture of heaven as an eternity of worshiping god and in my head this idea seemed about as fun as Divine Service II with Holy Communion and a baptism. For those that don’t understand Missouri Synod Lutheran humor, that translates to a very long day when you just want to be home. Along the way I learned what god is to me; the space between my heart and yours, the energy that connects us all. The feeling of oneness. I’ve never wanted heaven more than when I learned my definition. I want to spend infinity expressing love and being in communion with your hearts— with the ancient energy that is stored in your being. I want to create and play with you for all eternity, and I want eternity to begin today.
Integrating spirit and the body can be challenging work, and I think it’s because of how demonized the body has become. We value thinking over feeling. We value the possibility of forever over the tangible. Our bodies can be a source of pain— where trauma is stored and age is felt. But the body is also a source of immense pleasure. From the taste of a perfectly ripe peach, the feeling of its juice dripping down the chin, the satisfying crunch of fall leaves, the smell of sweetgrass, the feeling of sunshine on the skin, the way the heart skips at the sound of a lovers voice, the fullness of laughter, the smell of good dirt, a field of sunflowers, to a warm embrace. These are just a few of the joys that come with our physical bodies. All of these joys in life are enhanced because they are not constant.
For me, the ability to feel the love and joy of a full life or an experience of transcendence is tied directly to my flawed human existence. My spiritual path and healing journey has been painful. I have known great suffering. I have had my body give out on me and have experienced moments where I thought I was going to die. The diagnosis wasn’t cancer— it was feeling too much. I believe that I am able to feel and appreciate great love because I have known great suffering. Both/and. Both are valuable. Both hold wisdom for those who are able to be in it. The beauty of life is in the balance. It is in remembering that we can access both for a totality of existence. We can call on the wisdom of our suffering to channel empathy and compassion for ourselves and others. And we can call on the wisdom of our love and joy to experience the secrets of the universe here on earth. Death is a rite of passage for life… but life; life, is more than suffering.
