The Carpet Smells Funny

I had a great conversation with an old friend, who always seems to come through with great conversations. He told me about an experience he had recently with the sensation of pure being. There were some incredible details in his story, including a serendipitous encounter with some reading material within hours of the deeply terrifying experience that brought on the sensation.

He wondered how to respond to the experience in terms of practice and lifestyle. He recognized the significance of the event and while I doubt he wants to repeat the circumstances under which it took place, he clearly wants to find ways of cultivating the level of consciousness he’d wandered into. After he described the experience, he asked me if I knew what he was talking about, thinking my time in the monastery might have put me in the way of similar experiences.

“Yes,” I said. “I know what you’re talking about.”

I suggested he not seek to repeat the experience. I suggested he just let it inform how he proceeds in life. It has already served its purpose: his awareness has been heightened. Nothing can take back the ground he covered in that moment. And that, not the sensation of pure being, is the point. The high points come and go, then it’s back to the trenches. Peak experiences are not the point. In fact, St. John of the Cross, one of the great Christian mystics, teaches that peak experiences are a sign of psychological immaturity. A fully purified soul, one habitually immersed in pure being, does not feel it as such. Instead, life is just life and even the hard parts are peak.

Dividing peak experiences from trough experiences can be misleading. The experiences we call sharp, uncomfortable, or even tragic are part of life. Even if they are senseless, God is there, no less so than in the moments of pure being. It’s telling that my friend had his moment under circumstances of extreme duress. It’s the perfect illustration: harsh and heavenly in the same moment.

That’s what life is.

Every morning I roll out of bed, go to my knees, and touch my forehead to the carpet in an effort to surrender to the Absolute. It’s an act of reverence and willingness, and anticipates the richness of divine blessing.

But the carpet smells funny.

Ever forward.

Posted via web from Ever Forward