For thirty-seven years, I tried to figure it out. I tried to meditate. I tried to “do my practices” properly. In fact, I often did them, but they did not bring about the sea change that I hungered for. And yet, I continued to search, because I was driven to. I had caught the scent and couldn’t let it go, but nothing satisfied.
In fact, the very effort I invested seemed to take me furthur afield. I knew this–the hole inside, the sense of being an imposter, these remained–but I had no idea what I was doing “wrong.” My spiritual teacher had died in 2001, and I felt truly adrift.
Three years ago, something gave up and turned for home. I can’t really explain it. Teachers appeared who pointed in a fresh way. My belief structures crumbled. It had taken so much effort to hold that house of cards in place.
Life becomes simpler and simpler.
No effort required.
© Skye Blaine, 2011