True creation. It’s elusive, hard to define, and the whole point of existence. As humans we tend to see creation as something to be “done,” but at this point I think “doing” is a big distraction. Let me explain. (Please note, however, that recent attempts to assemble small realizations into some kind of linear coherence have yielded less than ideal results…)

The other day I felt restless, searching, as if I’d forgotten something not quite definable. Was I bracing for the next big project, the next hot deadline, the next crisis in need of my attention? It was the weekend, so nothing urgent for work. My new kitchen was complete enough to rapturously enjoy, the remaining details would get done eventually. With nothing urgent calling, why did I feel so unsettled? Turns out I was looking for the next thing to accomplish, sort out or overcome before I could allow myself be done, as in nothing left to do before relaxing into my enlightenment.

“Really, self??” I had to laugh. It reminded me of the constant childhood admonition to get ready for Jesus to come, because it could happen at any moment and we had to be ready! Here I was, still at it, some unconscious but very busy part of me still unable to turn off the constant scurry of preparation. Well, enough of that! I’ve lived long enough to realize that “it” – all the tasks inherent in being human – will never get done! There’ll always be another project, another load of laundry, another dirty dish, another person who needs help, another challenge to sort out. There’s always more and I’ll never get it done! But with part of me believing that everything had to be done before I could relax and allow my Self, I was set to keep busy for a very long time. (No wonder exhaustion has been a familiar friend!) Definitely time to make a new choice.

With Adamus’ new favorite words fresh in mind, I shouted, “No more!! This is it! There’s nothing to wait for, THIS. Is. It.” The burst of passion spent, I went on about my day, chuckling at my propensity to always try so hard and marveling at the human’s tendency to indefinitely postpone what we want the most because, well… who would I be without the constant struggle to “get there”? What would I have to talk about if not overcoming the latest challenge? What does it even mean to be human if there’s nothing to do, nowhere to go, nothing to strive for? It would be a fundamental change of the human existence, that’s for sure.

“Well,” I thought. “No more procrastination. This is it, as I am, in THIS moment. And it is enough.”

Ah, be careful what you choose, for the results are rarely what you expect. After getting clear on that choice, I did indeed relax, feeling more interested in being present here and now than figuring out the next urgent thing (for a change). It wasn’t that I had nothing to do. Rather, the tasks lost some of their importance. But I wasn’t lost in some blissed-out nirvana feeling either. In fact, over the next few days random things seemed to lose coherence and my human faculties took a nosedive. I started making really dumb mistakes at work, messing up all sorts of things where I usually excel. I felt strangely disconnected from my body (a bit worrisome when driving), as if I was losing track of the whereabouts of my physical details. Because of this, I started hurting myself. A lot. Smashed my thumb with a hammer, cut and nicked nearly every finger, walked into things that have always been there, hit my head on whatever was handy, smashed the same thumb with the same hammer the next day – the list goes on. It felt as if the connections and synapses in my brain were dissolving, leaving my body (painfully) uncooperative, miswired, and flailing about on its own.

After a few days of this I was ready to quarantine my unruly human in the corner for a while. At least she’d be safer! But life – MY life – kept happening and my participation was requested. So, rather than hide, I put a few of those never-ending projects back in the hopper to keep my mind and self somewhat engaged, or distracted. It’s not that I want to postpone the incoming light body or delay whatevertheheck is happening, but maybe I do want to slow it down a little and so live to tell the tale! Yes, I dearly want to consciously live and create within my creation, as Adamus talks about, but that means surviving the process!

Ah, creation. Now there’s something we’re all interested in. Not just moving the game pieces around like we’ve been doing but bringing in something completely new. Adamus says that true creation springs from the pure joy of existence. But what if we don’t feel this joy? It doesn’t mean we don’t have it, only that it’s been covered over by eons of grime and muck and aspects and patterns and limitations and beliefs and everything else we’ve been playing in. Joy is not something we have to conjure up or learn. It is our natural state.

Imagine yourself like a planet. At your deepest core is a crystal cave of creation, filled with an infinite reservoir of molten joy. It is your essence, alive and ready to burst forth at any opportunity. But this creator joy has been buried by sedimentary layers of experiences – wounds, loves, aspects, memories – hardened granite and healthy loam. This planet of your existence is strewn with the rubble of countless civilizations, and your “job” now, in allowing your realization, is to unearth that precious core of existence – your joy.

Every time you dig a little deeper and find another buried treasure, you’re remembering, feeling, integrating – and getting ever closer to your core. The challenge comes when you find an artifact that makes you cringe as it brings up some long-forgotten emotion or pattern. Is it so painful that you throw it back in the pit, cover it over with good intentions and platitudes, and go dig somewhere else? The constant busyness can help with that, keeping you always looking for the next place to poke around in, moving on when it gets too messy. But magic happens if you can stay with it, here and now in this moment.

Some of this stuff has been buried for good reason – ugly memories, painful reminders, wounds that still hurt – and isn’t much fun to excavate. And yet, underneath it is the joy, so we keep digging. “Processing” is like rearranging the stuff in the hole, trying to make it a little cleaner and nicer. But, fascinating as it may be, that’s not why you’re digging. Instead, take a good deep feel into what you just exposed, allow it to really exist in your awareness, breathe it in… and suddenly the next shovelful of wisdom has come home and you’re one breath closer to joy.

Funny enough, the deeper I dig the easier it gets, as if the shovels themselves can’t wait to bring me the next treasure. But always having “one more thing” to do is like being an archeologist that keeps getting distracted and moving to another spot. It’ll keep me busy for a long time, but it sure won’t get me very deep into what I truly desire. Instead of always looking for the next thing to tinker with, now I’m reminding myself to stop, take a breath and just be for a moment (even if it sounds like a cliché), in this moment, as it is. Because every time I bring awareness to my Self, it allows the Master to come in just a little more. It’s living in the And – busy being human and in a timeless no-space with the Master. Which reminds me of something.

Adamus recently said, “Stop fearing the human self.” My first reaction was, “Oh great, something else I’ve been getting wrong.” (Dang, I’ve still got some uptight aspects!) But, after letting me stew on that for a while, my Master self gently prodded, “What if you reveled in the human? What if you set her free? What if you let me feel that body you keep ignoring, for how can I manifest into something you/I cannot feel?” How indeed…

So yes, here’s another story of overcoming distractions and challenges, but I’m living a little freer, relaxing a little more, and not quite so worried about the next deadline or responsibility. They’ll still be there, but I’m getting better at staying busy AND giving myself moments of nothingness. I’m more or less keeping track of my body and also letting go into moments of pure beingness (in a padded room with helmet, kneepads and gloves). With every conscious breath I dig a little deeper, allow a little more wisdom and feel another drop of absolute pure creator joy.

What am I doing with that joy? Ah, perhaps a story for another day…

1 comments on "Excavating Joy"

  • Paula on March 25, 2018 10:51 AM said:
    Another wonderful article. Very relatable. With blessings.

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