Nothing to Lose But Our Illusions
The above is not my title. I found it in an advertisement flyer for the The SUN magazine. The title belongs to Derrick Jensen interviewing David Edwards. Here is segment of interview -
Edwards: Once you start to see through the myth of status, possessions, and unlimited consumption as a path to happiness, you'll find that you have all kinds of freedom and time. It's like a deal you can make with the universe: I'll give up greed for freedom. Then you can start putting your time to good use.
Jenson: And if someone says, "But the problems are so big, what can one person do?"
Edwards: Once you realize that helping others is also helping yourself, the size of the overall problems becomes irrelevant. You're not a one-man or one-woman army out to save the whole world. You help simply because it does good and it feels good.
These words caught my attention. I've experienced moments of wanting to change the world, save the world. Sometimes I ponder what greed holds me. And, who doesn't want freedom?
In the last few months, I've felt clingy. The interview invites me to examine the relationship between clinging and greed. Was there a hint of greed in clinging to my old, sick dog, not wanting to let her go, or in clinging to familiar patterns of family, friendships, church, relating to others and not wanting things to change even while purposefully making new decisions, excited by personal growth, opportunities and healing relationships? How does one discern the difference between healthy emotions of grief, achingly longing for a better world and unhealthy nostalgic clinging or entitled wanting? One's interior can be a tricky landscape.
I had a physical experience of clinging recently, clinging to a rock wall! A few weeks ago, under the expert guidance of my sister, Elle, and brother-in-law, Rich, I tried rock wall climbing using a rope and harness. Halfway up, I couldn't find the next hand/toe hold. I froze. Every cell of my body, especially my fingers and toes, remembers the clinging. I responded, “I can't!" when Rich instructed me to make the next move. Like my experience of being stuck on that rock wall, I've been interiorly frozen in place, gripping the familiar, holding onto my thoughts-ideals-wants, trying to be open and free but unable to make anything change exteriorly or interiorly, tiring, yet afraid to let go and lean into the harness of life.
Long before the rock wall experience, back when I first climbed into some real unknowns in my life, I remember eagerly embracing the concept of living the questions. I even felt some pride in my ability to be at peace amid the questions. Then, fatigue set in. Irritation and frustration followed. I'm reminded of the iconic story of the children of Israel wandering in the desert for forty years. As a kid in Sunday school I remember tuning out that story – who can take the hundredth telling of all that Israelite complaining and grumping? Now, I just smile, seeing the human condition, seeing my own weariness in barren places. Like the Israelites, I easily become my wants. Even my high ideals can become wants. Is this also greed? I sense some interior shifting. This sense of easing up began before my rock wall climb. The actual climb has become symbolic, a marking of my intention toward greater self-awareness and growth, a way for my body to help move my soul along. Elle tells me the body is made for this, but often I forget this wisdom. I’ve intentionally put my body in positions of trust through yoga moves, prayer prostrations, using the lovely wooden kneeling meditation bench a friend made for me, but I easily forget other physical activities like running, walking, exercising, body rolling, massage and wall climbing can move me along as well. Fully integrating body, mind and soul is my growing edge. Perhaps my religious ancestors were wise to get up from their church bench, turn around, kneel on the floor and face the back of the bench during corporate prayer.
I want to lose my illusions, let go of greed and clinging, but I also want to honor the difficulty of the process and be gentle when I find myself holding on. Sometimes I'm simply unaware that I cling. Self-awareness takes time, courage, solitude and practice. I bow in gratitude for every one and every thing companioning me in this process: every teacher, guide, pastor, family member, dog, bird, mountain, rock, river, flower and tree...every illness and interaction...every song, poem, word, hug, interruption and experience. Okay, I admit my mind recoiled when typing ’interruption.' My heart is truer than my smaller self, wanting to let go of irritation when I'm interrupted, so I allow my fingers to say the message first and trust my soul will move in that direction.
In reflecting, I always come back to trusting life will bring exactly what I need to flourish and grow; sometimes the moves will be easy, as were my first spider-like moves up that rock wall. Sometimes it will take more courage than I have and others will need to pull on the rope and help me move. Occasionally, I'll have no other option but to completely let go and fall into the harness. Then real stuff not illusions will hold me. Love. Awareness. Authenticity. Trust. Beauty. Goodness. Truth.
Joyfully,
Sharon all photos on this page are courtesy of Elle Beiling
~We inhabit ourselves without valuing ourselves, unable to see that here, now, this very moment is sacred; but once it's gone, its value is incontestable. ~Joyce Carol Oates
~Dependence on God is not submitting to a greater force, or surrendering to a God who makes me do things against my will, or who will discipline me for every intention not fulfilled; it is just loving this wonderful and weird created world, accepting life as it unfolds (not being a door mat though), embracing what is, learning from mistakes and allowing Love to grow, without believing the illusion that I'm in control of everything." Sharon 
