The Lonely Soldier
I am turning to you for comfort now, dear journal. To express what apparently I am unable to express to the world. Journal, I am tired of wearing armor, and just for now, I wish to strip it away and leave it at my bedside. I wish to lay naked, plainly staring at the ceiling, my portal into some other world. Could this be a world in which I am happy?
I thought I was happy, had been happy. Maybe I am. Maybe I have taken on energy from one of my clients and haven’t been able to shake it off. I tried bathing in Epsom salt to relax and ground, but the feeling still pits in my stomach like worms at the root. The feeling of imminent doom. It is the same feeling I had when Heather was cheating on me with David while I visited my family in Idaho. I knew then. I know now. But I’m not allowed to care, because I claim to be polyamorous.
I have maintained this mantle with success so far by virtue of remaining aloof and emotionally distant. I appear not to care, because the storm of love beads on the metal of my shield and drips to feed the earth. Deep within, my heart is fury, and none should see. I find it prudent to mince words unless direct inquiry is made. This attempt to view the world objectively at all times is the spiritual practice of non-attachment. In such a frame, emotion has little place. Rationally, I am always able to see the other side. Why then does it pain me so?
There is a lot of talk in the Sacred Companions community, and in spiritual practices of all kinds, about honoring the “human” aspects in life as much as divinity. Non-attachment and objectivity are traits of divinity, then, along with other allegories for enlightenment-and “human” embodies the inflamed ego, and the endless corridors of pain that accompany. This is the duality of human existence, which many say is an illusion, a lie. It is said that in realizing this lie we find conscious ascension.
I feel as though there were moments when I saw this truth and it served me well. It brought me into alignment with something that made me feel like my true self, in a context that I had never before experienced except in fleeting moments. I walked in light through the darkest place I have known. Perhaps I found this awareness by necessity, a trait of survival, and now that there is no real threat or danger I am left again to the devices of my frail ego.
It all seems so meaningless from a tall perspective. Looking down, I think, Why should any of this matter? I am to play a role, and hopefully play it well. I do not need to fully understand what that role is, only to trust in my path and follow my instincts. As long as I am connected to Spirit, I will do the greatest good. When I lose that connection, I begin to question everything, and I fall into a pit which restricts my view. I feel blind and ignorant.
It is said that one’s natural Kundalini energy is weakened by sex, and that we are at our spiritual peaks while celibate. This would explain why, during my incarceration, I felt more spiritually aware than ever. It also speaks to why I have in some ways weakened since. My life is complicated now with relationships, representing to me the most difficult challenge of humanity. I tether my jealousy but tonight it runs free. It is relatively easy for me when I feel like I am being told the truth, but when something is kept from me my gut is what makes me consciously aware.
The spur that tears at my side is that I cannot be certain. It is in the dark that I sit and wonder, and my imagination becomes my cruel Master. It torments me with vivid images, scenarios that play out over and over-my consciousness trying to prepare me emotionally for every potential end. My instinct, my kneejerk response to this inner conflict, is to remove the aggressor immediately and do my best to pick up the pieces and right my path.
Should I look to the North Star and sail away, with the faith of explorers that have come before me? Perhaps I should, but instead I will attempt to sleep and see what tomorrow brings. To me, this is strength-to look adversity in the eye and welcome it, but to admit defeat when it comes. Rewards missed by early surrender cannot be measured by the lonely soldier.
I thought I was happy, had been happy. Maybe I am. Maybe I have taken on energy from one of my clients and haven’t been able to shake it off. I tried bathing in Epsom salt to relax and ground, but the feeling still pits in my stomach like worms at the root. The feeling of imminent doom. It is the same feeling I had when Heather was cheating on me with David while I visited my family in Idaho. I knew then. I know now. But I’m not allowed to care, because I claim to be polyamorous.
I have maintained this mantle with success so far by virtue of remaining aloof and emotionally distant. I appear not to care, because the storm of love beads on the metal of my shield and drips to feed the earth. Deep within, my heart is fury, and none should see. I find it prudent to mince words unless direct inquiry is made. This attempt to view the world objectively at all times is the spiritual practice of non-attachment. In such a frame, emotion has little place. Rationally, I am always able to see the other side. Why then does it pain me so?
There is a lot of talk in the Sacred Companions community, and in spiritual practices of all kinds, about honoring the “human” aspects in life as much as divinity. Non-attachment and objectivity are traits of divinity, then, along with other allegories for enlightenment-and “human” embodies the inflamed ego, and the endless corridors of pain that accompany. This is the duality of human existence, which many say is an illusion, a lie. It is said that in realizing this lie we find conscious ascension.
I feel as though there were moments when I saw this truth and it served me well. It brought me into alignment with something that made me feel like my true self, in a context that I had never before experienced except in fleeting moments. I walked in light through the darkest place I have known. Perhaps I found this awareness by necessity, a trait of survival, and now that there is no real threat or danger I am left again to the devices of my frail ego.
It all seems so meaningless from a tall perspective. Looking down, I think, Why should any of this matter? I am to play a role, and hopefully play it well. I do not need to fully understand what that role is, only to trust in my path and follow my instincts. As long as I am connected to Spirit, I will do the greatest good. When I lose that connection, I begin to question everything, and I fall into a pit which restricts my view. I feel blind and ignorant.
It is said that one’s natural Kundalini energy is weakened by sex, and that we are at our spiritual peaks while celibate. This would explain why, during my incarceration, I felt more spiritually aware than ever. It also speaks to why I have in some ways weakened since. My life is complicated now with relationships, representing to me the most difficult challenge of humanity. I tether my jealousy but tonight it runs free. It is relatively easy for me when I feel like I am being told the truth, but when something is kept from me my gut is what makes me consciously aware.
The spur that tears at my side is that I cannot be certain. It is in the dark that I sit and wonder, and my imagination becomes my cruel Master. It torments me with vivid images, scenarios that play out over and over-my consciousness trying to prepare me emotionally for every potential end. My instinct, my kneejerk response to this inner conflict, is to remove the aggressor immediately and do my best to pick up the pieces and right my path.
Should I look to the North Star and sail away, with the faith of explorers that have come before me? Perhaps I should, but instead I will attempt to sleep and see what tomorrow brings. To me, this is strength-to look adversity in the eye and welcome it, but to admit defeat when it comes. Rewards missed by early surrender cannot be measured by the lonely soldier.