Transcendence Of SMR

Why is it that we refer to people in the past tense when the body completes its function? If she becomes a “was” instead of an “is” that means she doesn’t exist. She is no longer expressed through the body that we recognize but it doesn’t mean she went out like a candle flame.

I’m sitting where I can see her face clearly. The veil between the seen world and unseen mystery is tangible. Within the sacred circle of her Beloveds there’s a deep stirring of the ways of the old, like we’ve done this before from a time we don’t remember. We know exactly how to be- perfect in our individual response of letting her go yet united in love. We are at the pinnacle of presence blessing her holy departure.

She’s lying in the centre on a bed of a thousand pedals staring into the eyes of her children. My heart cracks wide open to feel the nuance of all that I’m feeling. I don’t want to pull away from this… I won’t falter to my attachments and crumble. I will all of me to be present with her. I stay anchored to my faith that we go on when our body does not.

I am an open vessel funnelling this profound moment. Ancient circuits are going on line because I know this ceremony. This is how it is suppose to be… Our hallowed anthem of whispers, cries, songs and prayers will carry her onwards and always.

During my time as a doula I welcomed many births. How does such a small being survive the arduous journey to the outside world? How can it be crushed, pushed and pulled without being utterly damaged? I’ve heard that the pineal gland releases huge amounts of DMT also known as the “Spirit Molecule” during birth and death. The tryptamine induces an intense altered state similar to what one would experience at a peak of a psychedelic experience. Perhaps that is why we hear of near-death stories where survivors have profound spiritual experiences and encounters with other worldly beings.

I need to believe that the many Ayahuasca ceremonies Scarlet did prepared her for this ultimate trip.

Scarlet Mary Rose came into my life like an explosion of confetti. We met over 2 decades ago in a college music program. Before Scarlet, I’d never met a woman who could unabashedly, unapologetically, and genuinely express herself. I didn’t know what to make of her except that she was deeply intriguing. She invoked, inspired and provoked parts of me that I didn’t know existed.

Burlesque sounded like something that came out of Timbuktu. I had no idea what it was until Scarlet glorified the art through her fantastical imagination. She captivated me with her vision to empower women and liberate sexuality through creativity- music, dance, twirling titties and gyrating asses-it’s a freedom movement of unbound self expression. She said her nipples would be covered in fancy tape and her vagina always just out of sight. My mind was blown.

Within a year after my diagnosis she got the exact same news. I thought I was solid, I thought I had my fear at bay but she was really afraid and it triggered me big time. I supported her through what I’d learned, I did my best to inspire her to dig deep, but there were days when we were both mentally mangled by our prognosis.

People can love and support you the best that they know how. But unless they are in the trenches with you, there’s no way to grasp the extent of mind fuckery mortality plays on you when it’s knocking at your door. We leaned on each other and respectively gave each other space. We made a pact to be honest with where we are at.

I’ll never forget the day I met her at the hospital after her chemo. She was convinced that the treatments would kill her, that her body couldn’t take the chemical assault. I held onto her like I held onto my own life. “There’s got to be another way”, I said.

Scarlet did find her own way. I witnessed her transcending fear and step into grace. She looked into me as her soul spoke out that she was ready. I instantly let go of my own agenda, my own need for her to keep going… for her not to give up. She wasn’t giving up, she was letting go.

Al and I drove 2 hours to this beautiful, remote, retreat centre to send her off. It’s important for us to be here for Scarlet but for us as well. We don’t talk about my health as long my cues are affirming that all is well. But, the “what if” is still in the periphery and now we are facing it with Scarlet. Somehow we know that there will be healing by being close to what we don’t want to think about.

“See the wood this ceiling is made out of? ” Scarlet says. “I bet my grandpa milled it because it’s the kind of wood only he milled at the time. My ancestors are here.” I am savouring every word she says. I’m collecting every opportunity to take her in before she goes. I tell her I love her. She holds me and whispers “when it’s time just let go”.

Scarlet is holding court before her departure. She is singing a duet with a Beloved on the piano and it’s the performance of her life. I’m sure her voice is opening the portal to the place where she is going. The last line of the song is “let me die” and we all crack open some more.

I’m keeping a firm eye on her. What if she changes her mind? What do I do if she does? Scarlet’s reliving the highlights of her burlesque career. She’s bringing in her Beloveds who couldn’t be there in person through her stories. There’s tales of glitter bombs, big balls and her cowgirl burlesque act as Rosy Rawhide. We are laughing, singing, crying and celebrating. All the while she is leading the way- there’s no apprehension, no fall back, she is set on her trajectory and ready for takeoff.

“I’m gonna smoke this joint and then we’re gonna go” she claimed. This is it… and we all know it. We walk in a sacred procession to the place where her body will be left behind.

My mind is trying to keep up with the magnitude of what is actually happening. I am straining my eyes to see beyond the wet curtain of tears. I will not miss the holy instant of her spiritual metamorphosis. I feel her leave.

We are taking turns revering her brilliance. It feels like we are suspended in space existing between here and where-ever she is. The men leave and several sisters stay to wash her voluptuous, porcelain body. I am singing as I wash her breast with the scar from her surgery. It is deeply healing for me to be so intimate with her scar that’s akin to mine. I am at peace entranced by her beauty- She’s a renaissance woman blazing the path to always.

Vipassana- Part 4 Exit

ANICCA TO ALTERED STATES

Day three and six was like driving on the highway full speed with my hands tied behind my back. What I learned was that even with my mind right out of control, I still had the ability to sit through it.

I stared down at my dishevelled meditation throne and stifled a laugh as it evidently reflected my state to a T.  The 3×3, cushy, piece of real estate had become my primary domain of existence. It changed form in various ways to support me through my purification. I straightened my back and sucked in a deep, shaky breath and settled in with a slow exhale.

There’s a powerful container of energy created within a group when sitting together with a common intention. We held each other in our collective struggle to be the equanimous witness of our inner workings.

I loved the silence. It was such a relief to take communication completely out of the picture.  The deep sense of camaraderie felt between the meditators came not from knowing each other’s stories, but from the common denominator to find solace within. Without the use of words there was no need to find the slot where I fit in. To be in their presence without having to make something of it was an authentic experience I cherished.

Through practice, I began to understand the simple yet profound truth about Anicca; the law of impermanence. I challenged myself to sit through a 2 hr block without changing my position to test the principle of change. Over and over again I was seduced by habitual thought patterns, distractions, reactions and excuses to abort my intent.

When my body registered pain, my mind immediately gave me escape options. Change positions, go to the bathroom, skip the rest of the meditation, you don’t have to do this… The throbbing nerve pain in my legs, the pins and needles in my feet, the sharp stabbing beneath my shoulder blade, my head that felt like a 100-pound weight compressing down on my spine gave me every reason to quit. Time and time again, I came back to the Vipassana technique- screening my body parts bit by bit with all the detached attention I could muster.

As thoughts became more spacious, I discovered subtler sensations. I attuned to varying degrees of vibrations, variances in temperature and currents of energy. I followed sensations like a detective. Changes began to reveal themselves in the most amusing way. When I came back to acute areas, I noticed a shift in it’s quality. Like the pulsing was more distant, or the stabbing was duller, or the temperature was not as hot… I noticed new areas with louder sensations and sometimes pain disappeared all together. This discovery thwarted my misery and brought on curiosity and excitement. Before I knew it, the gong rang. I did not move for 2 hrs. I crossed the threshold.

On the seventh day, I experienced something extraordinary during the four-hour block. The moment my seat touched my cushion, magnetic energy locked me in. There wasn’t even a little bit of shuffling or adjusting to get comfortable. My eyelids softly closed and cradled my eyeballs to fall back into its sockets. My breath immediately fell into a deep, relaxing, rhythm and my attention rested on the Anapana breath between the wings of my nostrils. I just let myself rest there. There was pure contentment in not needing anything. 

I felt a warm, incredibly euphoric feeling bubbling up from the base of my belly and moving upwards. I don’t want to taint what I experienced but, I can only relate the feeling to a prelude of a great Ecstacy high. I felt held in a container of bliss and everything was just perfect as is. Unlike the narcotic Ecstacy, there wasn’t the synthetic force of bliss making behind the feeling. It felt so organic and wholesome. My body was in complete homeostasis. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t really embodying my body, it was as if I was feeling it from a distance. There was no physical edge to my experience. I became a vessel- open to waves of beautiful breaths moving in and out. It would fill the space of my being then rest in what felt like an eternal pause before emptying effortlessly out. My awareness was complete with the expansiveness of what was happening.

I stayed in that space without the constraints of linear time. Even though I was completely in an exalted state, there was no attachment to the feeling of anticipating anything else. There was a certainty in that experience that I AM Soul. Is this death? Some call it “The Unified Field”, that’s exactly what it felt like. Somewhere else but of the same, I felt tears streaming down my face.

Suddenly, I knelt in meditation in a completely different environment in what felt like a different time. I was in a small, simple room with my palms gently resting on my thighs in the exact same state. The recognition that this person was me was absolute. I was there for a split second then I was back in the hall with an unshakable certainty that I had practiced Vipassana in another life.

The bell rang. I sat there awestruck. My logical mind could not grasp what Soul knew. I sat still not wanting to disturb my transcendent state. I stayed there until it changed. 

LESSON: “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”
― Alan Wilson Watts

“Transcendence”- Acrylic on Canvas by Maasa