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| The Upper Room |
..........When did it all begin? When did You begin to call me? There was a time when my life seemed to be coming apart, when I was barely able to carry out even the simplest of tasks. Inside, I felt lost, that I had slipped into the darkness of a bottomless, black hole vortex from which there could be no escape. I had tried for too long to help, manage, control someone close to me, in my fight against her alcoholism. Did I do it out of love or need? But I despised love as a weakness: I claimed to have no need, that I was self-sufficient. You were not even a glimmer on my inner horizon.
In time all doors, save one, seemed closed to me. To pass beyond that door would require my ending of the uneven struggle to survive. My emotional pain was extreme, but to end the struggle, to give in, seemed to be the ultimate folly, one more act of insanity which must surely have dire consequences. Yet the more I struggled, even to the limit of my resources and perhaps beyond, the further into the darkness I slipped.
One night I lay in bed in an upper room in a guest house. Above me hung the pitched, wooden ceiling so reminiscent of a small church. Was I asleep? Had I awoken? On the ceiling was portrayed the powerful image of a tormented cosmos. Was it, perhaps, a vision? Surely not! This was me in the late twentieth century. Things like that didn't happen any more, did they? But I watched, astounded, then slept. Maybe it was then that I heard You call to me, though I did not recognise You.
I sought an end to my hurt. I wanted someone else to carry the burden that was my life for a while, just for a little while, a burden I could no longer carry alone. It was for that reason only that I accepted the offered help of sanctuary. Not for one moment was I searching for You, for God. I did not even remember that You could have been part of my life, and love had seemingly become a travesty of anything remotely worthy of that name. With that simple, if desperate, acceptance of help, in whatever form it would come, for I no longer had the energy or will to care, the way was opened for You. Although I could not know it then it was the moment a new day began to dawn..........
(From my private diaries.)
All those years ago, yet sometimes it seems like yesterday. Perhaps it was the most important turning point in my life.
More! Want to know what happens next ...
ReplyDeleteWhy I don't know but it reminds me of a piece I wrote some years ago:
http://perpetual-lab.blogspot.co.uk/2007/03/flowers-of-grass_26.html
Dear Tom, thank you for adding your drawing to this post. For me, it conjures up the ambiance of that moment, the sense of isolation and "of all doors closed, save one..."
ReplyDeleteYou express so well the desperation you felt at time that it's a great relief to know that you not only survived it but found a brightly lit path out of that room.
Vincent; Of course you want to know what happens next: that's only natural. Unfortunately, there are another seven days to wait. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you for the link. Very interesting.
Natalie; Thank you for your thanks. I will try to continue the practice of adding a drawing or a picture to future posts.
ReplyDeleteI wonder whether I would have had the courage and stickability to maintain my course if I had not had that lesson, one step at a time - don't think beyond that, drummed into my proud ego. Thinking back to those times, I am quite moved by the awareness of something greater than me taking my hand. They were desperate times indeed.
Can we yearn for a turning point? It seems we need to become fertile ground for the seed. I really don't know Tom, but thank you for this at this time. Perhaps Ellena knows more about cosmic working than she lets on.
ReplyDeleteHalle; Maybe we can yearn for a turning point. Is it not similar to having a sense of nostalgia for some point in the future; sensing a call from the future? As I have said elsewhere, sometimes I feel that past, present and future has no meaning for our Higher Self or soul.
ReplyDeleteI suspect you may be correct about Ellena. Perhaps we should devise a strategy for obliging her to reveal her knowledge of cosmic workings. :)
I hope Ellena will spill without need for strong-arm tactics.
DeleteIt embarrasses me that I didn't think of the message from and nostalgia for a possible future that already exists there.
Halle; Be kind to yourself. I do not care to appear to rubbish your feelings, but we do sometimes forget even important stuff.
ReplyDeleteI certainly agree about Ellena. (So if you're reading this Ellena, a degree of spillage is required. Plans are afoot......)
Your post pushes me back 58 years to a time where I was going to show the world how I can do better than my parents. I thought his sickness could be cured with me being a good girl. I did my best but gave in to defeat when I reached the end of my endurance.
ReplyDeleteI'm in a tiring space at the moment. Not sure if it's due to your and Halle's posts or to the hands that the chiro is laying on me.
It's remarkable that we humans often have to get right to the last thread of our unraveling ropes before we glimpse a light. I'm glad you reached for the Hand.
ReplyDeleteEllena; How readily we as children assume responsibility for the welfare of our parents. But it's always self-defeating.
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear you're in a tiring place at present. If you're looking for a reason I'd certainly plumb for the chiro. I cannot imagine how Halle and I could be contributing to your current state. :)
Susan; I quite agree with your opening point. Of course societal pressures do not help. Steadfastness, loyalty, fidelity, determination and the rest are qualities that are highly prized in our society. It's just that they get confused with less noble qualities, not the least of which is ego-pride/arrogance.
ReplyDeleteI also am glad I reached out and accepted help. I cannot say it was for the best of reasons, but the end effect was a return to sanity.
Now you'll know why I am more and more reluctant to make comments, Tom.
ReplyDeleteWhatever I said earlier should have been said soooooo differently.
Even I am amazed how tangled my thoughts dropped into the comment box.
Let me see if I can do better this time. I wanted to say that I endured an abusive marriage for many (14) years because I wanted to prove that divorce can be avoided.
Ellena; The important conclusion that can be drawn from these comments is surely that, even though the circumstances were different, there has been a shared experience of desperation and emotional pain from which we have learned lessons.
ReplyDeleteIt seems to me that when a person has a major struggle in life and perhaps even seems to 'hit bottom', that is when they will find some figure of faith that helps them move on and find joy. You certainly have, and some of the other commenters.
ReplyDeleteConversely, if some of us have not had that kind of tremendous struggle in our life, perhaps that's why there hasn't been that kind of call and revelation, or whatever you may call it?
Oh, and thanks for sharing your lovely drawing, Tom.
Er, I should correct this phrase "they will find" to "they may find". (I must remember to edit before publishing.)
ReplyDeleteMarja-Leena; I think you are correct. It reminds me of something that Gurdjieff once said, to the effect that when we experience a major, painful event in our lives, we "wake up". However, we all too often "fall asleep" again; we cease to "Self-remember".
ReplyDeleteI was fortunate I suppose in that events were deteriorating too quickly for me to learn to adjust and manage.
Glad you liked the drawing.
The word 'succour' fascinates me. It enfolds within its meaning motion. From the Latin succurrere to hurry to help, to run to the rescue. I waited for both pieces before commenting ...
ReplyDeleteRouchswalwe: Please see Part 2.
ReplyDelete