The Journey

Earlier this week I took a brief but whirlwind 36-hour tour on the blame train. This trip was distinctly of the guilt ridden kind. My ego said “All Aboard!” and apparently I was #upforwhatever.

During my guilt trip, I discovered that the anger I had been projecting outward, not so long ago, was actually directed at myself all along. While I had done some work to look at and let go of the outward projection of that anger, I discovered that I had not yet truly healed, or forgiven, it. It was still churning inside and eating away at my peace (if not swallowing it whole) through insidious self-blame.

You see, I detailed a number of the nails that have been hammered into my proverbial coffin this year. I talked about the upheaval, the physical and mental impact, and small bits of the outcome I am just beginning to perceive. But what was eating at me is that I am the one holding that hammer, the one consciously slamming it down against those nails, all of them.

None of what has occurred in my life has been by chance. Every bit of it has been a conscious choice. Even those bits which were not initiated by myself were still actively chosen and acted upon by me. Despite the ego’s attempts, there can be no foray into victimhood. I have been a conscious and willing participant the whole time. That’s not to say that I haven’t felt sorry for myself at times because I surely have. But even more so, when things are at their roughest, it’s even easier to turn to self blame, which really–let’s be honest–is no better (or any different, for that matter).

On this most recent trip of the guilt ridden variety I really tried to crush myself for creating all the circumstances that led up to this year of undoing. I should have known better. I should have been better. I should have learned better. I should have chosen better. Should have, could have, would have. Deep regrets. Regret… A word I haven’t spent much time on before. My mind totally submerged in “past.” Depression.

I called out for help, without delay. I used my forgiveness tools. I prayed. …And I still felt like shit. Now, I could add failure to my list. I couldn’t even get forgiveness right. A full 24 hours and my gut churned with fear and sadness, just out of visible detection. I couldn’t distract myself. I had to go fully into it. I felt the fear, the sadness, the guilt, the pain, and the failure. I let my gut be fully wrenched. I willfully thrust all the pain into the Holy Spirit’s hands. Then, I went and took a bath.

Emerging from my watery cocoon, I suddenly decided to tuck and roll and willfully flung myself off that fucking blame train. I’d had enough. My ego had been steady talking to me for 36 straight hours, and I had been listening. I finally had enough. And one thing I’d like to note is: It was an act of will that got me off the train, but it was not me who did it, really. It was my willingness to hand it over to the Holy Spirit that enabled Him to pick me up by the collar and fling me out of that dark, dank train car.

Love. That’s what turned my whole world right-side up again. After turning my ears toward the Holy Spirit’s voice, that’s what I heard: Love. And within moments, that’s what I felt too! And before I knew it, that was the only thing that made sense anymore. Love for myself, Love for my teachers, Love for my past, and Love for every person, place, and thing that had been torturing my mind a short time before.

There are two voices speaking to us all the time. One is fear. One is Love. We know which one we’ve been listening to by the way that we feel and by the ideas that we’re thinking. Choosing the voice for Love and closing our ears to the voice for fear is the way out of Hell.

I no longer feel guilty and ashamed, not even for my round-trip on the blame train. In fact, I’ve since been celebrating the fact that it only took me 36 hours to change my mind this time. And that’s a heck of an improvement from the first 28 years or so that I rode it almost non-stop. I want to learn to listen only to that Voice for Love. Sometimes it takes me weeks to stop listening to fear, and sometimes only a day or two. But one day, the choice will be instantaneous, and that’s when we’ll inhabit a permanent car on the Love Train.

Keep on truckin’,
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