As a sophomore in college, I was serving as president of my campus's undergraduate LGBT+ student organization... and I was making a mess of things. Following my coming out experience, and a series of major successes in activism and leadership, my 20-year-old ego had inflated so tremendously, it was a wonder that my head could still fit through the doors of the dining hall.
With ego running amuck, I not only found myself mostly leading alone, but actually believing that I could. After a series of sweeping changes I initiated, the org's membership was deeply hurt by my top-down style of leadership, which left them feeling excluded and voiceless. Especially in my decision to change the name of the organization, they felt like part of their identity had been taken from them and were hurt they hadn't been consulted. As a way to repair, they wanted me to give them a vote on these major changes, and make the decision making process more democratic. But because I knew that they wouldn't support the ideas I thought were needed and best, I stonewalled and declined.
Then, the protests began. Flyers popped up around campus, organizing meetings were held in secret, and clashes at our new member meetings eventually led to a front-page article in the school paper that covered the rising drama. After months of conflict within the org, our discussions became so intractable, we knew we had to enlist the support of a third-party mediation service.
Despite it being January, it was a bright, warm weekend in Miami when we all gathered at the YES Institute for their Communications Solutions course. While nervous about being one man against many, I arrived resolved to listen, even if I wasn't prepared to change my decision about a vote. On the first day, we learned how to speak nonviolently and really hear people. And on the second day, two years–– to the day–– since my coming out experience, I faced my enemies. Person after person got up to tell me how deeply my decisions had hurt them, how isolated they felt from the only space on campus that had ever felt safe and welcoming to them. They told me they were angry, and in pain, and despite the voice in my head rolling its eyes saying, "I'm sorry you feel that way, but don't you see how my vision will make our campus so much better," I actually, fully listened to them. Somewhere deep inside of me, humility began to blossom and I finally empathized with those whom I'd genuinely hurt. Holding that much space, and actually taking responsibility for having caused so much pain was among the hardest things I'd ever had to do; for me, the session ended with feeling exhausted from crying, and ashamed that I had only wound up injuring the people I'd been working so incredibly hard to help.
Before I left, one of the sign language interpreters came up to me and, after a kind conversation, told me she thought that I was a "lightworker". I told her that I didn't know what that meant, but she simply told me to look the term up once I got home. As I entered my dorm room, my roommate was gone and I realized that I was alone. Opening my laptop, I typed in the word the woman had told me to and was led to Doreen Virtue's website... which also featured articles on mermaids and angels. As a staunch agnostic, I verbally sighed, and my eyes rolled dramatically, but, I allowed myself to learn about "lightworkers".
As I began reading, to my complete and utter amazement, I was hanging on every single word, for this was the first time in my life that I had ever felt completely and utterly seen. Her article spoke to my calling to help others, to be of service, to make the world a better place, to uplift and shed light on the truth, to stand for justice, and to foster peace. On and on, it wrote out to me what felt like the purpose of my life. Then, astonished, I went into ecstacy.
My nervous system lit up like a Christmas tree. The intensity was so great, I reflexively closed my eyes and before me I saw an infinite blackness. Looking up, there was a droplet of golden water falling, falling through the blackness. It was "me". Time suspended, my gaze followed the droplet down, farther and farther, until suddenly it connected with an ocean of its same golden essence. And, in this instant, I became that.
The boundaries of my self dissolved, and that which I was expanded into an overwhelming experience of pure connectedness with all living beings. All of life, all at once. Simultaneously, my heart chakra exploded and I was flooded with unadulterated, unmitigated, unconditional love, which swept through every cell of my being and suffused me with light. Immediately, I knew that this experience was "God".
I don't recall what happened afterwards, that evening. But my mom got the weirdest phone call of her life the day after. For days and days after, I was overcome by the beauty of the world around me. I often would stop and gawk at the sight of birds and trees, and a constant sense of gratitude accompanied me as I went about my daily activities. After two weeks, however, the intoxication of the Self began to wane, and negative feelings––like frustration and fear–– started bubbling up to the surface again.
As my ego began coming back on line, I became unshakably, voraciously curious. The implications from this experience of inner revelation had changed literally everything for me. All the thoughts that poured through my mind during that time could all be summed up in the following question, "Well, God is real. Now what?"
I spent the following years reading, searching, doing sadhana, starting psychotherapy, starting physical therapy, learning sound healing, learning yoga, learning tantra, learning meditation, learning astrology, pulled runes, using crystals, using subliminal messaging, searching for a guru, and on, and on, and on.
Although I still ask myself the question, Now what?, the answer has become much clearer thanks to the teachers I've had along the way whose wisdom delivered me to the path of simplicity and the of one-pointed devotion toward simple observing and progressive surrendering. For years after my experience of ecstacy (aka satori), I did everything I could think of to trigger it again, with little to no success. It has taken me over eight years of intense, committed study and practice to shift the motivation of my practice away from chasing satori to accepting my powerlessness over my spiritual evolution; allowing instead the subtle power of God to take the reins of my mind and my will, and guide me toward the salvation of a pure heart and a gentle mind–– on the good days, at least.
In my future posts, I'm going to share with you the various teachings, milestones, and lessons learned that have helped me heal from a chronic pain condition, unravel major blocks in my ego, release devastatingly painful past-life karmas, and encounter a Savior who has fundamentally changed my life, and my relationship to the boundless power/endless love of the one I call "My God".
Until next time,
Jacob
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