Why this matters is for each of us to come to. It could even be said that coming to this why is the Great Work of our time. The challenge and urgency of our time is that, unlike any other time, we are now asked to know before we go.
"There is no end to am, only what you believe of ‘I’. When you unknow ‘I’ you will come to what you came here to be." Reneé, this is the stuff of mysticism; of the deepest spirituality we can experience in these forms. I so appreciate you going here, for it is the Great Work, as you put it, of being a human being. All the mystics ultimately are addressing this question I believe. The wind gave you the answer. Now, it's the doing of it; the identification only with the am, not the I. What a challenge we have as humans! We use the I to let go of the I; what a paradox truly. It's pretty good I think to even know the question and have an answer that works. I have to trust that as I approach death, there will be a shedding of the I; as the body is letting go, I hope that the mind/ego/I will also be letting go of itself. I think we know that the mind/ego/I is a construct that allows us to live in the world as a human being. We're pretty identified with that being who we are. I think that the best strategy for me to stop identifying with it, is to identify with the heart, with love, with compassion, with beauty. These are the gifts of amness. For me, that is an essential part of the Great Work. To live in gratitude for everything; including of course our mind/ego/I. To be so thankful that we're here to experience the Whole Catastrophe, which must include illness and suffering and death; but as you know, death of the body/mind/ego/I; and not the death of am. How can that die? Where did it come from and where does it go? Unanswerable with the mind. Perhaps as Donna said, at the moment of our death, we get the glimpse of an answer. That's such a cool thought to hold onto. Until then, all I can do is practice letting go of all thought that keeps me identified with thought. And marvel at the paradox that is at the root of it all. And most of all, be love. As my "friend" Mary Oliver says: "...When it's over, I want to say to myself, that all my life I was a bride married to amazement; I was the bridegroom taking the world into my arms." And then letting go of all of it, peacefully and gracefully.
Such exquisite reflections Renée (which for reasons of the mundane kind I always read but don’t always have the time to digest in sufficient proportion to the replies they warrant) I could pull many of your words, to humbly add my own quiet reflections but those that I have read and reread are these;
“Do you taste the touch of hilltops and the old sycamore trees who, last autumn, lost their leaves to you? Do you feel the brush of you across my cheeks? And when I let loose the final breath of me, will it come to you or you to it and whisk me away; and will I know?”
These touch the deepest part of my soul… they speak to me in a language I understand. I feel the whispers of our greatest and most important work. Not that I have answers, perhaps not even the becoming of them… but I am learning.
Thank you Renee, for always drawing me into a few moments of the mystical I ordinarily have to leave in the wind… with love xxx
Oh my goodness, this is spectacular, my friend. I've read this through twice now and feel I need to read it at least twice more to let it fully seep in and weave into my being. The initial thing that keeps coming to mind for me is how much I'd love to guide you in a ritual I do of dissolving self in the underworld. (The second thing is that I cannot wait to receive your email introducing me to Olga🤗.) Your conversation with the wind is breathtaking. I think I've spoken to you before about the ancient Irish practice of Imbas Forosnai, where the mystics would go into a cave and lie in suspended animation until they dreamt a poem (the similarity of what Peter Kingsley writes about is astonishing, isn't it?). I feel like your post here is your mystic poem, that you've been touched by Imbas Forosnai. Those of us who are blessed to read it are tasting the words of divinity. Thank you for your gift!
Awesome reflection Renee! The picture you paint of the girl, an explicate of Amness, a wind whisper, is stirring and beautiful.
Earlier this week I re-viewed the film, A Room with a View. What sprung to mind as I read you here was a scene from the film. The character, George Emerson, has offered to exchange his room with Lucy Honeychurch and her cousin Charlotte, to afford them a better view. He then returns to room to adjust a painting on the wall. The painting has been turned to face the wall, with it’s back displaying a large ? question mark. It struck me as his questioning into the Am.
In this reflection perhaps I might see you as George, offering us the better view and the deeper question.❤️🙏🏻
“By the side of the everlasting Why there is a Yes-a transitory Yes if you like, but a Yes.”
Ah yes, this is an unfortunate aspect of our times - we think we should know before we go. We think we can unravel the mystery. Perhaps we can but I think not, I think at the end of the line there will be some thread of the mystic that may not allow itself to be known by our human mind. And still, we try. Unknowing is a practiced skill but I sense (hope) that I can continue to sink into the mystery with grace and eventual ease if I keep showing up to unlearn stuff.
Thank you, Dearest Renee, for this thought provoking essay.
Thanks for this Renne, so helpful. I love, "To be a human is to have a taste of the knowing that this is so and then to let go of what believe we know, because what we believe we know and what we know are not the same." And I particularly appreciate the "I" and "am" distinction.
As I read this, I an reminded of a beautiful chant I heard .... not sure who it is quoting.... "I was a mystery.... I am a mystery ..... and I will always be a mystery." Some say... well then, why should I even bother trying to understand if it is not possible with our finite minds? To that, my soul says... "It is the power of the MYSTERY that compels us to seek understanding, but it is not the MIND that will find it, but the HEART that will sense it."
I am struck also by the final paragraphs because they speak to the experience I am stepping into these days.... being with those who are dying as they transition into whatever is next.
"I asked the wind what I would know when I go. The wind said I would need to die to what I know. I then asked the wind, How do I die? And the wind said, Every breath you let go of what you believe you know is a death and a birth and a beginning without end.
And then the wind came real close and whispered a final word before wandering off, There is no end to am, only what you believe of ‘I’. When you unknow ‘I’ you will come to what you came here to be."
"There is no end to am, only what you believe of ‘I’. When you unknow ‘I’ you will come to what you came here to be." Reneé, this is the stuff of mysticism; of the deepest spirituality we can experience in these forms. I so appreciate you going here, for it is the Great Work, as you put it, of being a human being. All the mystics ultimately are addressing this question I believe. The wind gave you the answer. Now, it's the doing of it; the identification only with the am, not the I. What a challenge we have as humans! We use the I to let go of the I; what a paradox truly. It's pretty good I think to even know the question and have an answer that works. I have to trust that as I approach death, there will be a shedding of the I; as the body is letting go, I hope that the mind/ego/I will also be letting go of itself. I think we know that the mind/ego/I is a construct that allows us to live in the world as a human being. We're pretty identified with that being who we are. I think that the best strategy for me to stop identifying with it, is to identify with the heart, with love, with compassion, with beauty. These are the gifts of amness. For me, that is an essential part of the Great Work. To live in gratitude for everything; including of course our mind/ego/I. To be so thankful that we're here to experience the Whole Catastrophe, which must include illness and suffering and death; but as you know, death of the body/mind/ego/I; and not the death of am. How can that die? Where did it come from and where does it go? Unanswerable with the mind. Perhaps as Donna said, at the moment of our death, we get the glimpse of an answer. That's such a cool thought to hold onto. Until then, all I can do is practice letting go of all thought that keeps me identified with thought. And marvel at the paradox that is at the root of it all. And most of all, be love. As my "friend" Mary Oliver says: "...When it's over, I want to say to myself, that all my life I was a bride married to amazement; I was the bridegroom taking the world into my arms." And then letting go of all of it, peacefully and gracefully.
Such exquisite reflections Renée (which for reasons of the mundane kind I always read but don’t always have the time to digest in sufficient proportion to the replies they warrant) I could pull many of your words, to humbly add my own quiet reflections but those that I have read and reread are these;
“Do you taste the touch of hilltops and the old sycamore trees who, last autumn, lost their leaves to you? Do you feel the brush of you across my cheeks? And when I let loose the final breath of me, will it come to you or you to it and whisk me away; and will I know?”
These touch the deepest part of my soul… they speak to me in a language I understand. I feel the whispers of our greatest and most important work. Not that I have answers, perhaps not even the becoming of them… but I am learning.
Thank you Renee, for always drawing me into a few moments of the mystical I ordinarily have to leave in the wind… with love xxx
Oh my goodness, this is spectacular, my friend. I've read this through twice now and feel I need to read it at least twice more to let it fully seep in and weave into my being. The initial thing that keeps coming to mind for me is how much I'd love to guide you in a ritual I do of dissolving self in the underworld. (The second thing is that I cannot wait to receive your email introducing me to Olga🤗.) Your conversation with the wind is breathtaking. I think I've spoken to you before about the ancient Irish practice of Imbas Forosnai, where the mystics would go into a cave and lie in suspended animation until they dreamt a poem (the similarity of what Peter Kingsley writes about is astonishing, isn't it?). I feel like your post here is your mystic poem, that you've been touched by Imbas Forosnai. Those of us who are blessed to read it are tasting the words of divinity. Thank you for your gift!
Awesome reflection Renee! The picture you paint of the girl, an explicate of Amness, a wind whisper, is stirring and beautiful.
Earlier this week I re-viewed the film, A Room with a View. What sprung to mind as I read you here was a scene from the film. The character, George Emerson, has offered to exchange his room with Lucy Honeychurch and her cousin Charlotte, to afford them a better view. He then returns to room to adjust a painting on the wall. The painting has been turned to face the wall, with it’s back displaying a large ? question mark. It struck me as his questioning into the Am.
In this reflection perhaps I might see you as George, offering us the better view and the deeper question.❤️🙏🏻
“By the side of the everlasting Why there is a Yes-a transitory Yes if you like, but a Yes.”
-E, M. Forster, A Room with a View.
Ah yes, this is an unfortunate aspect of our times - we think we should know before we go. We think we can unravel the mystery. Perhaps we can but I think not, I think at the end of the line there will be some thread of the mystic that may not allow itself to be known by our human mind. And still, we try. Unknowing is a practiced skill but I sense (hope) that I can continue to sink into the mystery with grace and eventual ease if I keep showing up to unlearn stuff.
Thank you, Dearest Renee, for this thought provoking essay.
Your reflections on the wind gave me the chills. And then I said thank you, wind. ☺️
Profound writing, as always.
Thanks for this Renne, so helpful. I love, "To be a human is to have a taste of the knowing that this is so and then to let go of what believe we know, because what we believe we know and what we know are not the same." And I particularly appreciate the "I" and "am" distinction.
Beautiful prose.. Stunning imagery.
As I read this, I an reminded of a beautiful chant I heard .... not sure who it is quoting.... "I was a mystery.... I am a mystery ..... and I will always be a mystery." Some say... well then, why should I even bother trying to understand if it is not possible with our finite minds? To that, my soul says... "It is the power of the MYSTERY that compels us to seek understanding, but it is not the MIND that will find it, but the HEART that will sense it."
I am struck also by the final paragraphs because they speak to the experience I am stepping into these days.... being with those who are dying as they transition into whatever is next.
"I asked the wind what I would know when I go. The wind said I would need to die to what I know. I then asked the wind, How do I die? And the wind said, Every breath you let go of what you believe you know is a death and a birth and a beginning without end.
And then the wind came real close and whispered a final word before wandering off, There is no end to am, only what you believe of ‘I’. When you unknow ‘I’ you will come to what you came here to be."
To paraphrase a bit: I read and I think, therefore I am. Thanks Renee.