Since February, we have been excavating our consciousness, discovering the lost temples of our most holy places, and restoring the sacred meeting grounds between our incarnate lives and the Divine within us. In this journey, we have begun to discover just how deep our blocks and hurts have been, how often negativity and old inner scripts of fear are still being triggered, and exactly how scary it is for us to believe and act as if we are being personally guided by hands other than our own.
“The shift to spiritual dependency is a gradual one,” Julia writes. “We have been making this shift slowly and surely. With each day we become more true to ourselves, more open to the positive.”
As I type her words, I notice in myself how resistant and afraid I get about the word, “dependency.” I have lots of fear around that word, starting with being labeled throughout my childhood in my military family, a dependent. Then, like many of you, there have been plenty of encounters with other kinds of dependency – drugs, needy relationships, alcohol, and money. And then there was our recent confrontation with our dependency on books and media to, entertain, distract and even insulate us.
Because of my history, I tend to rebel against any form of dependency, and feel strongly that I should be in control of things. But of course, in many cases, I’m not. Learning when it’s right and wrong to surrender has been a long journey for me.
When our dependency is spiritual, and good, we will notice that we feel stronger and more authentic. Not less. Once we have dealt with the toxic ones that needed clearing away, our remaining relationships may improve significantly. We may find we are less judgmental about both ourselves and others. “We are able to tell more of our truth, hear more of other people’s truth and encompass a far more kindly attitude toward both,” Julia reassures us.
How does this happen? As we are learning to reach out in trust to Other, we are learning to listen. We are beginning to notice that when we ask, we receive.
This requires quiet (like reading deprivation practices, and the occasional media fast), and it requires creating an opportunity for Guidance to speak – which is what the morning pages, in truth, are.
One exercise that Julia suggests, now that morning pages are a habit (right?), is to develop them as an actual dialogue. “At night, before we fall asleep, we can list areas in which we need guidance. In the morning, writing on these same topics, we find ourselves seeing previously unseen avenues of approach.”
This weekend, I encourage you to experiment with this two-step process (some of you already have discovered this, I believe). In the evening, ask for answers. Listen for them next morning in your pages.
Be open to all forms of help.