Into Me See

I often prepare for my semi-annual meditation retreats by choosing a book to read in the days before that will focus my intentions for the days of reflection.  Almost 15 years ago, I picked a book in which the author talked at length about intimacy.  (Sorry, I looked for the reference, and I can't find it.)  What really stood out in my mind was how intimacy was described as "into me see."  I recall the description of creating intimacy as allowing oneself to be seen, unvarnished, by others.

As my meditation began, everything that I'd ever done in my life that I wasn't particularly proud, even going back into childhood, drifted into my meditation, forcing me to make peace with it, and then letting it drift away.  After about 18 hours, I felt clean and clear.  The remaining days of my retreat were remarkable--truly an otherworldly experience. 

After that, I began sharing some of the less pretty parts of my history--things that I would have been concerned that others would learn--in speeches and in writing.  My life literally became an open book.  An interesting thing began to happen.  Every time I shared a story, it got smaller and smaller, until it just disappeared. 

The things that we harbor as guilt, blame, shame, or embarrassment become a increasingly heavy burden that we drag through life. The spiritual journey is challenging enough without doing it with the burden of the past, holding us back.  I wrote about perfectionism in Leading from the Heart. It is a damaging tendency and one with which I have struggled.

Since first writing about how to do the journey, I felt like I had to do it perfectly to be authentic.  How silly!  No one is perfect, least of all me. In face of a lifelong struggle with perfectionism, the inevitability and purposefulness of imperfection on our journeys had been a challenge for me. I now understand that what is important isn't doing it perfectly, but having the intention to keep moving forward in spite of setbacks...even when that may feel like two steps forward and one back many days.

In the early days of this blog, one reader remarked that it was intensely personal.  That was my intention--no varnish.  Sharing my challenges and imperfection in this blog has felt to me a bit like the early days of that retreat years ago.  Although I don't even know who you are, the intimacy and trust I feel with my readers have lightened my burdens and have drawn me ever closer to who I want to be.