When exactly did I lose all hope? I think it happened over the last six years, slowly and incrementally. It happened in coincidence with my spiritual unfoldment and the last major breakup which, not coincidentally, happened over the last six years. As both love and psychological illusion fell away, hope went with it, tagging along for the ride. I have to say, at this point, I’m not sure it was love at all. It was another version of ego. Another point of addiction by a mind that thinks it’s all knowing, powerful and in charge of truth. It was more like being a crack addict. It probably seems like a good idea to get that high at first. It feels unbelievably good, I imagine. Like love. Until it starts to take over and becomes less about choice and feeling good and more about feeling bad. I’ve tried, in my bad choices in love, to shore up hope: Hope that love can last, hope that the high won’t wear off, hope that I can finally feel good about myself. Which is the Catch-22. How can you feel good about being an addict? Love, not the addicted kind that I have preferred, hasn’t helped. I’ve felt worse the choices I’ve made and now I’m left without hope of ever changing this life through love.
Without hope…See, there it is again. It washed off from me in the bath this morning. Now it’s falling off my shoulders like a coat that is too small. Every little movement shrugs it off. In this moment, something has fundamentally changed. This feeling doesn’t feel like despair, the opposite of hope. In this moment, I experience a quiet solidity and a full body peace. Love is not the point, not through the experience of love, anyway. Hope is not the answer. The doorway to Truth lies in letting go of both and realizing that no amount of grasping or clinging to what came before will satisfy this addiction. I am more in love with this moment than I have ever been with a man or a hope. They feel like paper dolls. It’s time to put them away. I feel like relaxing into the warmth of sunshine. Melting into the golden radiation of life itself. I don’t have to hope for more.