The Power Of Now

Do you remember me telling you about the book I’ve been reading? The Power Of Now by Eckhart Tolle. Well I finished it this week and, as often happens when I complete a book of this nature, my brain settles down as I assimilate what I’ve learnt.

Having found the whole experience quite hard going, I returned to the book I’d read prior to Eckhart - A Return To Love by Marianne Williamson. This lovely book was recommended to me by my equally lovely friend Hannah. Thank you.

Now, I have read that we are drawn to texts that reinforce our view of the world. Sounds kind of obvious doesn’t it? But on reflection perhaps it’s just another way we promote Eckhart’s separate Ego identity. You remember - the one that keeps us focused on illusion and therefore in pain.

Well I don’t care. A Return To Love is a beautiful book that makes me feel great and, yes, reinforces a lot of my own personal experiences. Hooray!

This book is an interpretation of a 1970’s book - A Course In Miracles. From the little I’ve read (it’s my next read) it’s a non-traditional interpretation of the Christian texts. Marianne Williamson is engaging as a translator of this interpretation because she is so human. As  is often the case, authors who have written books like this have gotten there the hard way. And we all like to feel that if they can do it, we can too.

I read the way I do most things in life - in a hurry and without paying enough attention. I pick up what I think are the relevant bits and then move on to something new. Yes, very like the way I live my life. So it is unusual for me to reread a book so soon after it’s first outing, and I am enjoying the experience.

I only started it again this morning but already I feel as if I’m both reading it anew and making sense of its meaning. What has helped enormously was just having finished old Eckhart. 

A Return To Love has exactly the same message as The Power Of Now: Love is the only reality; everything else is an illusion; we are not separated from anyone; now is all we have; surrender to who we really are and we will relinquish all pain. 

Nice.

Ah yes, but like the horse riding, it’s all very well in theory. More and more I see my life as a constant stream of little struggles (all played out to a soundtrack of niggling demons and accompanied by a permanently churning stomach), interspersed with moments of harmony and beauty when I let go and just focus on the now.

And I’d call that progress! I’ve sure come a long way from the days when I was completely unconscious of the havoc I wreaked wherever I went. Let me tell you about my Bathtub Epiphany: (I’ll try to be brief)

Last April, about a fortnight after my son had called me to break off contact, I went to see a Journeys Therapist (look it up: The Journey by Brandon Bays). This is an intense therapeutic process that lasted three and a half hours for me and was very cathartic.

As with other therapies of this kind, I arrived at a state similar to when I meditate and the therapist guided me through various visualisations. At the time I felt like a bit of a fraud. It was hard to be in that state and be talked to, very distracting. However, my visualisations were corkers and included Elvis and my five year old self in matching jumpsuits (go figure).

A week later Chris took me off to Baillifscourt Hotel in Climping. What a heavenly place. Only twenty minutes down the road and it feels like paradise. My first indulgence was a long deep bath.

As I lay in the bath and reflected on my therapy session, I started to look back over my life. During the therapy I had gone back to when I was five. I remembered the curious, creative, joyful child I’d been and wondered where she’d gone.

And then I realised that she hadn’t gone anywhere. When I started to run through the major events in my life I could see that I’d continued to launch myself headlong into life regardless of the consequences.

Now at the time I was desperately trying to rid myself finally of the crippling guilt I felt over my son, that had dogged me for a decade. So I had been pondering the concept that everything we experience we choose for ourselves. It’s a question of actions and consequences. 

Well, as I lay in the bath and considered this concept in relation to my quick appraisal of my life so far - I started to laugh. I mean I howled. As I matched this idea of me being the creator of my life through the choices I’d made, to the images running through my head as if on a silver screen, I laughed until I cried.

Contrary to my 45 years of conviction that I’d been a victim of my circumstances and the cruelty of others, I realised that in fact I had been the director in every drama - just by making my choices.

Sounds simple aye? We choose and we deal with the consequences - nothing more, nothing less. So we can be unaware of our role in our personal drama or we can choose consciously.

Simples. 

Then I considered that even if my choices had been thus far unconscious, I must have made them for a reason. And having come to the understanding that everything I do is with a pleasurable outcome in mind, then I must have wanted to be in all the dramas I’d chosen.

Wow.

That one wiped the smile off my face. But not for long. I had another good laugh at myself when I absorbed that one. Imagine - all the crap I’ve lived through and I chose it all for myself.

Too funny.

Which, in a somewhat convoluted way, brings me back to the original point:

We are all making choices, starting with how we choose to perceive life. If we want to live in peace then we can make conscious choices out of love. If we want to continue our struggle, we can remain convinced that the fear and the pain that we feel is real and carry on like ants.

The choice is ours.

Amen x