I wrote and posted this before I received Anne’s piece so the two have no connection.
As we begin the return to God this year – not a total return to God, which is endless lifetimes away, but a return to oneness from duality – many pitfalls seem to appear along the way.
One is yielding to the pinnacle of duality: the feeling of being special. If I am separate as I feel I am, then often what sets me apart from others and makes my journey into separation successful lies in proving that I am special.
Richer, smarter, royal, talented – it matters not. I sometimes struggle and struggle in my dualistic mindset to establish myself as standing out from the rest. And I sometimes feel myself in heaven when someone comes along and acknowledges just how special I am.
You remember the scene in Gandhi where Gandhi excuses himself from the gaggle of admiring and aspiring young statemen to … give a goat a mudbath? One of the qualities that made Gandhi what he was was that he had no sense of, no need for being special.
Specialness is the best the dualistic world has to offer us. Being separate, we sometimes feel we must establish ourselves as unequal and superior. There seems no other way to experience happiness in a dualistic world, to the best of my knowledge.
One of its insidious faces is to learn a modicum of knowledge, have one’s views accepted, and then consider one has the ability to enter any field, comment on it, and have one’s views prevail. Doing so is a habit I can fall into without noticing. I’m then shocked to find that I don’t know what I’m talking about. How could I have gotten myself into such a place?
I feel constantly called upon to reject the siren song of specialness. That isn’t where we’re headed. Oneness doesn’t involve, it seems to me, standing out from the crowd. It appears to involve letting go of the need to stand out, of feeling quite happy being one among many ones.
What need is there to stand out, rise above others, and be special? Who first argued that that was desirable? How many who are crowned special are happy? Can we not see that the National Enquirers of the world revel as much in reporting divorces as marriages, failures as successes? Can we not see that they know that “success” is a dualistic racket and sell it to us endlessly?
I believe that people who are returning to oneness can often find themselves saying to themselves, “Ah, now I’m becoming special.” They may react with jealousy when they find others also unfolding and returning to oneness. Jealousy is the trap of specialness. We criticize the leading channels, find fault with other lightworkers, and gossip about the shortcomings of others. I know. I see myself doing it.
I think this is why so many voices are warning us at this time about drama, jealousy and conflict. We’re awakening a little and wanting now to be God’s anointed. We’re all indeed God’s anointed. But if everyone is special, is anyone special? If I haven’t learned how to let things go at this time, I’d best make the practice my best friend, I think, and employ it moment by moment.
Awakening is not payback time. Awakening is not here to see us rise above the rest. Awakening fits us to serve, which perhaps is why Jesus, before his leaving and Ascension, washed the feet of the disciples, to remind them.
Let’s face it. Our dualistic beliefs had everything wrong. The very impulse of wanting to separate from God was a mistake. And now as we return, I think we need to leave behind all our mistaken estimations, not try to maximize the potential of awakening for our self-glorification.
And that is only one of the pitfalls of this time of awakening and return. I’m not aware that anyone said that awakening would be easy. We need to be gentle with ourselves and watch as much for the last thrashings of the ego as we watch for the last thrashings of the cabal as their edifice falls. The cabal represented the ego at its worst.
I need to let go into awakening, not batten on it for continued exaltation of the ego. Let go, let go, let go, the sage said, until at last we reach ultimate emptiness. That emptiness, I’m told is not empty, but filled with bliss.