The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo March 28 and 29

The readings for the 28th and 29th struck me so deeply that I am sharing them on this blog. It may be just the timing in my life right now that explains their impact but I think that what he wrote is so simple it is profound.

Excerpts:

"It is interesting that the earliest peoples believed in something that we, in our modern hive of manufacturing, have forgotten-that immortality is attainable by shedding. The Dusuns of North Borneo have believed for centuries that when God finished creating the world, He announced that 'Whoever is able to cast off his skin shall not die.'...

Of course, for human beings, dead skin takes many forms, the most significant of which remain intangible but suffocating, such as a dead way of thinking, a dead way of seeing, a dead way of relating, a dead way of believing, or a dead way of experiencing.

In essence, shedding opens us to self-transformation. Paradoxically, those of us who refuse such renewal will, sooner or later, be forced to undergo transformation anyway as a result of being broken or eroded by the world. Very often both occur at the same time: that is, we shed from within while being eroded from without." March 28

Life feels like that...a shedding. It seems that from the moment we are born we gather debris that clings to us. Some of it clings on the inside where it can't be seen and we hoard it, protect it. And then there is that which clings on the outside for everyone to see and look at and sometimes we use that as a protection or a closet in which to hide. For me, the last ten years has been a shedding...sometimes painfully and sometimes joyfully. I have watched snakes shed their skin and it takes time and movement in slow increments. Snakes' vision becomes cloudy during the shedding and they will strike out at anything that forms a shadow in their vision. It takes rocks and gravel to help inch that dead skin off but when it is finally released the new skin of the snake is soft and shiny and ready for the next part of life.

"For sure, living is not easy, and living openly is both wondrous and dangerous. The fact is that shedding, no matter how useful or inevitable, always has a pain of its own. Unfortunately, there is no escaping this underside of growth. So it is not surprising that there are many feelings peculiar to human beings that prevent us from shedding what has ceased to work, including fear, pride, nostalgia, a comfort in the familiar, a want to please those we love. Often we give up our right to renewal to accommodate the anxiety around us.

The Melanesians of New Hebrides contend that this is how we lost our immortality. Sir James Frazer has preserved their story. It seems, at first, human beings never died, but cast their skins like snakes and crabs and came out with youth renewed. But after a time, a woman, growing old, went to a stream to change her skin; according to some, she was Ul-ta-marama, Change-skin of the world. She threw her old skin in the water and observed that as it floated it caught on a stick. Then she went home, where she had left her child. But the child refused to recognize her, crying that its mother was an old woman, not this young stranger. So to pacify the child She went after her old skin and put it on. From that time, human beings ceased to cast their skins and died.

And so, when we cease to shed what's dead in us in order to soothe the fear of others, we remain partial. When we cease to surface our most sensitive skin simply to avoid conflict with others, we remove ourselves from all that is true. When we maintain ways we've already discarded just to placate the ignorance of those we love, we lose our access to what is eternal." March 29

Isn't that a profound image? Imagine a snake trying to slink itself back inside the skin it had discarded simply because the other snakes no longer recognized it. But yet...

I talk about being who I am in the comfort of my own home or with the people who recognize, see and understand the shedding that has taken place over the last several years but at times I head to the closet and pull out that old skin, slip it on and zip it up tight. It does feel suffocating but it also feels safe and easy like scuba gear designed to protect the skin from the elements in the water. I don't know which it is...a fear that I will be seen and not loved or a fear that I won't be seen at all. Perhaps that is the next skin that needs to be shed because either way that is a fear that is based on what is outside of me...just another piece of the life accumulation of debris that needs to be shed. How soft and shiny will the next skin be?