I have this saying: the bigger the resistance, the bigger the breakthrough.
The thing is, I didn't really feel the resistance so the breakthrough caught me a bit off guard. But I have seen this many times in bodywork, where the client (sometimes myself) isn't even aware of what they are holding or that they are holding at all. When we are able to break through the armor they are usually surprised and sometimes overwhelmed.
I had this experience last week but the treatment was not primarily physical. It was sound. I will never again underestimate the power of vibrational healing.
Starting in 2011, we have someone that coming to Living Harmony that does a sound journey once a month. Scott really knows what he is doing. He brings in a variety of instruments, most of which are tibetan metal bowls, but also including drums, Native American flute, and even his guitar. He plays for about an hour and really does take us on a journey.
The first time I participated in this event last January I felt very relaxed afterward. I don't remember being deeply affected like I was this time, but I do remember being highly impressed. We've hosted a similar event before with crystal bowls, which were also enjoyable, but there was something different with Scott's journey. Maybe the variety. Maybe the intention. Maybe the right place at the right time. Hard to tell, but I will say this...
After this past week's journey, I went home afterward and experienced a spiritual breakthrough like nothing I have yet experienced. I might say that in ways it was similar to breathwork sessions I have done, but it felt unique.
Scott began the session by setting the intention of self-liberation. This struck me immediately as something I needed to pay attention to. There are areas in my life that I have felt keep me in bondage and part of me asked to release this. When we ask for something like this, we have to really want it because getting it may require shifts. Sometimes massive shifts. I know someone who says "Transformation requires sacrifice." And it does.
So as the sound journey began, I reveled in the ethereal sounds of the bowls and the rhythms and tones Scott would create with them. For most of it I felt wonderfully relaxed, my thoughts drifted here and there, but generally I was happy to be where I was. At one point, Scott comes around with this clear crystal "challis," which is played and produces the most incredible sound. It has a handle and he plays it over everyone's body. When he came over, I felt a light stream of cool air and thought to myself, "It's the breath of spirit!" I welcomed the vibrations and called for spirit to speak to me.
I recently watched another amazing video on TED.com by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love. She is talking about working through the creative life after her "freakish success" (her words), and presents some thought-provoking ideas about creativity. I won't recap her talk since you can just go HERE and watch it, but she reminded me of the truth that our creations come from outside us and in a lot of ways are out of our control. I have been desiring to create more and used this experience with the sound journey to try to open me up. It worked, but not how I expected.
Spirituality is something that is present for me almost all the time. It is what drew me to study religion and drives almost everything that I do. But because I don't subscribe to a specific community that meets regularly, there is this sense of aloneness that lingers often. When I returned home after the sound journey, I felt enveloped in spirit, content and calm. This tranferred into a feeling of sensual alertness, kinda like following a yoga class or something where we feel relaxed but alive.
This feeling became a deep despair once I started to get ready for bed. Alexander Lowen talks about how we have a fear of falling that manifests as a fear to fall asleep (or in love). In order to fall, we must give ourselves up to an unknown force that will take us places we can not predict. I don't know if that fear came into play but all I know is that I couldn't help crying for a while.
I was finally able to identify that my despair was linked to my longing for God. I know INTELLECTUALLY that I am not separate from spirit, but that doesn't erase the continual feeling of the abyss between myself and the great spirit. I had not felt that deep longing for a long time, but the journey allowed me to go deeper into myself and uncover these dark feelings.
In the morning, I remembered this Dali painting that I always loved. My senior year in high school, I strangely identified with this image. I felt like I was breaking out of shell of my old self and becoming something new, which both excited and terrified me. As I write this I am reminded of perhaps my favorite theory in Religious Studies from Rudolf Otto who wrote about the religious experience. He siad that our encounter with "the Holy" is both terrifying yet mysteriously facinating. We can't look away even though the vision of the Holy Other frightens us to pieces. Maybe because it reminds us of how small we are. It is like a car accident. Our curiousity leds us to acknowledge our mortality.
Recognizing my longing for the Lord, I started to think of the song by George Harrison, "My Sweet Lord." I have always felt connected to this song. Or rather, felt like this song helped me to connect. The last time I heard it on the radio, it was a beautiful day out and we were riding through a rural area north of Tampa. I listened to the longing in George's voice and thought that I was happy that he had past on and has merged with the Lord. At least, I am assuming.
When I went to open mic that night, the first person that went up played this great song on the guitar. The words he sang characterized my feelings from the morning. Finally, I felt like I had found my community. even though I know I am at home there, hearing these words from another was an affirmation. When he got done, the performer said that what he shared was a song by George Harrison called, "It's All Too Much." I almost burst into tears.
Since this episode, I have felt clearer and more grounded. I am trying to recognize the divine in the everyday, which makes every day its own journey. Though it is wonderful to connect with others that share this longing, I believe it is important for us to recognize that our experiences are our own. But it is always nice to share, which is why I am commited to opening. Still. Opening.
