Insomnia and Water

[I've spent a long time thinking I wasn't affected by caffeine; that somehow I rose above the trappings of the drug. In fact, I tend to believe I bypass a lot of standards - perhaps it's a nasty sense of entitlement or a scandalous affair with a tempting fellow named Authority. However, a half-a-cup of yerba-mate this evening and brutal case of insomnia later, and I'm beginning to reconsider what I really am affected by.]

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A dear friend recently told me that I reminded her of the earth element water (she was speaking in the sense of Reiki tradition). Pliny the Elder (the naturalist, not the beer...) said, "Water swallow up the earth, extinguishes the flame, ascends on high, and by stretching forth as clouds challenges the heavens for their own, and the same falling down, becomes the cause of all things that grow in the earth."

Water is a cleansing, healing, psychic, and loving element. It is the feeling of friendship and love that pours over us when we are with loved ones. Water is feminine, it's the element of emotion and subconscious, of purification, intuition, mysteries of the self, compassion and family. Water is love. When we swim, it is water that supports us; when we are thirsty, it is water the quenches our thirst. Water is powerful, yet full of flow and grace. What a compliment to be likened to water (thanks love).

When something gets in the way of water – water flows over it, through it, around it, under it. But sometimes, is it dammed. And it's those dams that I've been riding on.

To me, there's two dams, one that wanes and one that waxes, like the moon.

The first dam is anxiety. Anxiety that shows up as a pressure right on your chest. Fear in your eye. Impatience with yourself or others. It's a time bomb that has been ticking patiently for a long time and the sound has become aggravating. It's an alarm clock that you keep thinking you turned the snooze off, but the chirp keeps coming back on, over and over, every damn 8 minutes. It's a conversation you know you need to have but keep avoiding. It's love lost or misplaced. It's saying you will do something, and not doing it... or not doing it well, or on time. It's witnessing bad grammar or two or even three(!) spaces after a period... and reacting. It's not living in your power. It's saying "I'm working on that..." instead of doing that. It's over-consumption. It's excess. Heartbreak. And it goes profoundly deeper in the direction of grief and loss. The dark tunnel of thinking you may never find what you're looking for - supreme discontentment. Mourning and death. Chemical imbalances, like depression, where you dig deeper and deeper into a dark abyss. It really is as simple as imbalance. It's not putting your two feet on the ground, after you know that you should put them back down after their trip.

The second dam is bhakti. I'm using the word bhakti here instead of the English word "love" because I'm not sure if love is the right word for me in this sense. Cynically, at times I see the word 'love' as cheap and easy. To my point: "There is some speculation that the English word Love has an etymological path winding all the way back to the Sanskrit word lobha, or greed. Though this may describe the very lowest of attractions we confuse for love, it certainly does not encompass the life-opening potential of this state of consciousness. Many definitions of love have to do with deprivation or self-denial and speak to the self-effacing qualities of love where union begins to become possible by the loss of attachment to self as the center of the universe. These particular definitions can be associated with much suffering as they require the “sacrifice” of the little self. Some Old English roots for the word love have an affinity with allowing or approving. Latin origins center on the energy of pleasing." (got it from here)

But in essence and without negative stigma, divine love or bhakti is what I'm getting at. Like the real shit. The blissful stuff. The stuff that lifts you up, that sets your heart on fire, that makes your bones tingle. That which entices your mind and intellect, as well ignites lusts deep in your body. That opens up your spirit to the howling wind. That makes the deepest part of your soul as visible as the pattern on your shirt. The complete willingness to do for others without abandon. Matched passion and an equal embrace. Tenderness without juxtaposition. Being on the same page. Trust. Truth. Accountability. Soulful awakening and enlightenment. Really seeing into someone's eyes, and then looking into those eyes and seeing yourself. Taking a leap towards living in adventurous abundance. Creation. Birth and rebirth. Walking a tight rope. Trying something new because you know there will be someone/something there to catch you if/when you fall. It's feeling electricity happen on your skin. It's skinny dipping. It's opening your eyes when you would usually close them. Falling. Feeling yourself fall. Landing on two feet.

So in essence, the dams are the highs and the lows. The new and the full moon. The ying and the yang. The (oh so) hot and the (freezing) cold. That's what dams the water - the freeze and the boil.

Despite the intense desire our culture has embedded to always live in the moment of intense action (the "path of endless climax"), most of our time is on the plateau in between. Riding it out in anticipation, creation, libation... and mostly, learning, growing. (If you aren't growing, you are dying.)

To paraphrase a book I've been reading by George Leonard called Mastery,

We spend our life stretched on an iron rack of contingencies. Contingencies, no question about it are important, the achievement of goals is important, but the real juice of life; whether it be sweet or bitter - is to be found not nearly so much in the products of our efforts, as in the process of living itself. In how it feels to be alive. We are taught in countless ways to value the product, the prize, the climatic moment - but even we catch the winning pass in the Superbowl, there is always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. If our life is a good one, a life of Mastery, most of it will be spent on the plateau.

Practice the path of Mastery, exist only in the present. You can see it, hear it, smell it, and feel it. To love the plateau is to love the eternal now. To enjoy the inevitable bursts of progress and the fruits of accomplishment, then serenely to accept the new plateau that waits just beyond them. To love the plateau is to love what is most essential and enduring in your life.

So what stops us in our tracks and can also throw us the extra yards ahead are the the tip and the base of the iceberg. The highests highs and the the absolute zeros -- but what creates consistency, solidity, form, and strength is the space between. The plateau. The growth. And that is a path of patience. 

Life isn't just at high or low tide, there's a full spectrum of space. There's a full rainbow of opportunity for progress, for the journey that is life. That is a slow moving river, full of tributaries and still water. I can't always jump ahead to the next waterfall and break through Niagra Falls. So on my path as water, I will respect and adapt to the shape I'm encased in, the gentle boundaries in the path I'm on, the universe's current, nature's season, the time, the weather. And with grace, I will let her take me, rather than apply force to her.

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Now let's see if sleep will take me...