It’s finally Spring in Vermont. Finally. With the warmer weather, the bees are buzzing around pollinating flowers and adding to the overall charm of the season. Fairly frequently, one will find its way into our screened-in porch and not be able to get back outside. To help, I’ll trap it in a yogurt container with a piece of paper underneath so I don’t get stung, and walk it outdoors. No matter how much I whisper that it doesn’t need to be afraid of me and I’m only here to help, the bee gets royally riled up and makes a huge ruckus. Once beyond the porch, I remove the paper and the bee flies off, regaining its precious freedom.
Many of us respond similarly to the divine benevolence which only seeks to help us. The very kindness that brings our freedom is perceived as a threat. I get it; it’s hard to feel safe when something seemingly so powerful takes over our experience. The whole experience seems entirely counter-instinctive to our sense of safety and survival. Still, the temporary discomfort is entirely in our best interests and is the way to our freedom.
I’ll return to this theme of being helped and released in a moment. First, I want to address something which I hope will have a practical application. I like the Bible. How can you go wrong with a message of forgiveness and loving your neighbor, even in the most dire of circumstances? But there is one verse which I have found throws many people, and I’d like to offer my idea of clarification.
Jesus is cited as saying something like, “Be ye’ perfect as is your Father in Heaven.” It’s difficult to know precisely what he said and in what context, but this is the quotation that has been handed down to us. I can appreciate the sentiment of trying to be as loving and forgiving as possible, but the perfection-thing doesn’t work for most people.
Since we’re fallible human beings, seeking perfection is a futile goal. To strive for such, in my experience, only fuels the already existeting sense of failure and guilt that many live with. I propose we’re better off being realistic, knowing that we may well already be good enough to enjoy our spiritual desires. If a major league baseball player gets a hit one out of every three times at bat, he will definitely make the All-Star team and have a good chance at winning the batting title. Trying to hit at that level in our own way makes our lives more manageable, and we can enjoy the success we do achieve.
It doesn’t do much good to perseverate on the times we strike out. It’s good sometimes to have a short memory. You’ll get another time at bat. Make the most of it. Having said this, none of us are guaranteed a full nine innings in life, so it’s surely of value to make every trip to the plate as worthwhile as we can muster.
Regarding acceptance. So often the term is used to describe a grudging acquiescence. The “make lemonade of lemons” mindset. Certainly it’s valuable to be as positive and upbeat as possible, but lemons are tart no matter how they are sliced. The trick is to get sugar into the drink so it’s actually enjoyable. The sugar is a change in attitude.
Acceptance, in the yogic context, is more about getting out of our own way and allowing help, grace, whatever you want to call it, to infuse our lives. Like our friends, the bees, there are forces at work on our behalf that we cannot understand, but we can still allow the help. Struggling doesn’t advance our freedom; it may even impinge the progress we could revel in and result in self-sabotage.
Love does not wait for qualification. There is a divine love that is unconditional. Like the sun, it shines equally on all, regardless of our notions of worthiness. This is not poetry, it is truth.
Love, however, cannot force itself into our hearts. That would be contrary to the very nature of love. Love awaits welcome. There is no proper way of thinking, believing, or even behaving that can entice love. The price of admission is to relinquish our obstructions, after which love will come rushing to us.
The great yoga masters have told us that divine love can be achieved in an instant. As this love is eternal, it is not bound by time. Love only waits for invitation; the waiving of our insistence we know best. They also recognize that for almost all of us, we will not release our obstructions — anger, greed, shame, jealousy, etc. — in the blink of an eye, so we need a process.
This process is called sadhana, spiritual practice. This is not a matter of accomplishment or acquiring skill sets. Rather, it is the bold looking at our own clinging to that which inhibits love from being welcomed. We may claim we are not blocking or resisting, but when we sincerely probe our minds, we can recognize how deeply embedded is our self-centered insistence on being right, and our clinging to dramas.
None of this should be surprising or, really, disturbing. We all do it. It’s a quirky, almost cute phenomenon shared by human beings. If you have a belly button, you are a member of the obstruction club!
When contemplating resistance, many have a knee-jerk reaction to think of themselves poorly, wish the negativity wasn’t present, and try to push the whole mess away. This is simply an ineffective strategy. You can’t push away part of yourself because, well, it is a part of yourself. Instead, by looking at it objectively without being overly emotional, it can be seen for what it is: a defensive substitute for love based on a feeling of unworthiness.
When understood as such, these clouds dissolve before the light of your own divine awareness. It’s not magical or mystical, but it is somewhat humorous. How can little clouds stay before the radiance, majesty, and power of the sun? And when they are gone, they are gone. There is no need to ever again invite them back.
The price of admission into this realm of love is simple: give up what you don’t want. There are no accomplishments to attain, just a letting go of blockages. How do you accept a birthday gift? Graciously. Same with divine gifts. Open your arms, open your heart, and accept what is waiting right around the corner to meet you.
