I am writing a book on the phases of the awakening process. It’s pragmatic and grounded in people’s lived experience, and also draws on and is inspired by the work of a brilliant author and mystic. She is still alive, and I get to know her and we have a conversation about the topics we both share an interest in. I haven’t yet told her I am writing on the same topic, and from a more fluid and inclusive orientation. I have heard she can be dogmatic and defensive of her own approach, so I wanted to establish a connection first. Even then, she seems suspicious and somewhat angry and defensive.
Hm, I am not sure what this is about. The topic is one I am obviously interested in, from my own experiences and in general. I love Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill, which is on this topic. (As in the dream, I don’t see it quite as rigidly as it is presented in that book, and I don’t use a Christian framework.)
In this case, the mystic and author is still alive, and she seems a bit angry, defensive, and suspicious, even before I risk telling her I am writing on the same topic. It does seem risky, especially as I see the phases in a more fluid way – as aspects of the process, with a less fixed sequence, and that two or more can co-exist at the same time.
THE DAMAGED PART
Of course, I have her in me. I have that damaged feminine side that’s overly critical, defensive, and rigid. It’s something my mother had, and that’s in me too. This side is critical of the more fluid sides of me, and when I live in a way that feels organic, natural, and good to me.
It’s also a side that’s critical of what I am doing when I share or produce something.
The dream is, at least partly, an invitation for me to recognize those dynamics in me. That side, that I see in my mother, is also here in me. The somewhat vicious criticism of others living their lives is here in me, it’s also a criticism of myself, and it can be crippling.
As I write this, I am taking time to connect with the author and mystic in the dream. I see her, feel her, find her in myself, and allow her to be as she is.
Then, I do some tonglen with the suffering I see in her.
THE BRILLIANT PART
In one sense, the conventional shadow part is the easy and familiar one.
I overlooked the brilliant side when I first wrote this, and that’s also in my shadow. A part of me tends to devalue my own insights, contributions, and so on, so those sides of me goes in my shadow, in what I don’t fully recognize or embrace in myself.
The dream may also be an invitation for me to recognize that. In the dream, I am writing a book that seemed quite important and written from a relatively mature perspective. In some ways, even more mature than the work I was inspired by. In some ways, as anyone familiar with their nature, there is some brilliance here.
How is it to embrace that? How would it be to live from it?
How would it look? How would it feel? What would change?
One way it would change is that I would be far more open about what’s important to me in my life. I tend to not talk about it very much. I put my light under a bushel. It doesn’t mean that I would necessarily share it in a big way. How it’s done etc. is not so important. What’s important, for myself and maybe others, is that I do it. That’s also how I get to see how it would look, and receive feedback that will shape its expression and form in the world.
THE WOUNDED AND THE BRILLIANT IN OUR SHADOWS
Of course, actually and thoroughly embracing something in the shadow is always challenging, whether it’s the typical things (what’s damaged, hurt, reactive, etc.) or our brilliance.
And yet, embracing my brilliance is, in many ways, more difficult. It goes even more against the grain.
We all have wounds and brilliance in our shadows. We all have a conscious identity that’s way too small and limited for the richness we are.
Also, the parts of our richness we are aware of is just a tiny part of the richness that’s there. We are as rich as the world. Whatever characteristics and dynamics I see in others and the world is also here. I can take any story I have about anyone or anything, turn it to be about myself, and find specific and genuine examples of how it’s true – very often including at this moment.
THE TOPIC OF THE BOOK
If I wrote such a book, how would it look?
I would interview people to see how the awakening process unfolds in real life. Evelyn Underhill used the written testimony of Christian mystics as her source material. I would use interviews along with written material from any and no tradition.
In terms of the phases, I am not yet sure which ones I would use. It would depend on what I find through the interviews and by looking at the models others have come up with. (Of course, my questions and the answers will be colored by my initial assumptions and frameworks, that’s inevitable, and it’s fine.)
Maybe I would use… (a) Initial interest/fascination/draw. (b) Initial glimpses and continued exploration. (c) More stable noticing. (d) Transformation of this human self and its life in the world within that noticing. (e) Continued clarification, deepening, and maturing. (f) Dark nights of different types, at any time of the process.
As I write this, I notice that phases feels a bit clunky. There are, of course, phases, in each process, and there are some similarities, but it’s also different in each case.
I would emphasize how there is often a thread of each one throughout the process. For instance, there may be a thread of the dark night through our life, in the form of wounds. The initial fascination and interest, in its innocence and awe, is also a thread through the whole process. The invitation of our human self to heal and reorganize within oneness is something we can work on throughout the process, from the beginning to when we are no longer here. Even the oneness aspect of it is already here, as an inevitable thread through the process – as intuitions, glimpses, more clear noticings, stabilization of the noticing, clarification, deepening, and so on.
That also means that there is often more than one phase present at any one time. Some may be in the foreground, and others may be in the background but still here.
Phases are useful, but I think I would mainly organize it around themes.
The themes could be…. (a) Fascination, draw, awe, and so on. (b) Active exploration. (c) Inviting our human self to heal, and also realign with oneness. (d) Our nature recognizing itself, and clarification and deepening of this. (e) Dark nights. That feels far better.
These are themes that are here throughout the process, and they shift in going to the foreground and background.
TAKING THE INVITATION FROM THE DREAM
If I were to take this dream seriously, I would actually embark on such a project. It would be fascinating. It could be of interest to others, and something for others to respond to and develop further. And I would embody what the dream invites me to embody.
I have often thought that Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill needs a modern update. There are others who would be far more qualified to write it, especially those who have worked with many students over several decades. But if nobody else does it, someone needs to do it, and maybe there is an invitation for me there. I would interview teachers to hear from their experience and what they have seen, so that aspect would be included.
