The Fear of Spirit

Photo by Rob Wicks on Unsplash

I truly wish that the stories of spiritual evolution weren’t sanitized or romanticized to make them ‘acceptable’ to people.

For all the ha-ha and ooohhh stories put out by the Ram Dasses, Yoganandas, Martha Becks and Michael Foxes that we applaud in retrospectives, folks truly need to understand that shitting your pants in public (literally and metaphorically) and other expressions of discomfort are part of the process. Those who go through it are intentionally placed into discomfort that-every-single-time is meant to challenge their role in community. Every-single-time it’s meant to stretch them beyond their borders of fear.

Generally speaking, it’s directly related to the fear of what others think. Generally speaking, other people become afraid of them. Generally speaking, especially in cultures that have been Westernized, that fear of the person going through the process is medicalized. Spiritual processes, then need to be labeled and medicated into communal acceptance. Alternatively, if they can’t be medicated away, there’s an attempt to stage manage it to keep the ‘supporting cast’ comfortable.

One of the strongest benefits of spiritual awakening or growth happening in the ‘old times’ was that community was educated and aware that they’d never understand what the soon-to-be practitioner was going through, they had a role. Sometimes that role was to get them to the right person. Sometimes that role was to watch the fire or dig the symbolic burial space or keep the initiate fed. The roles were established in ritual and tied to practices that were always recognized as supportive to the initiate, not supportive to the ones who were afraid of them.

That was because everyone in community knew that what was expected of the person moving through the process was something others didn’t have the capacities for. Essentially, the soon-to-be practitioner was going through the process—within community for the community. The identities of the individual were forced through change to bring greater change for the community.

Religion changed that. There were other social influences, of course, but the power and control sought in the name of God changed that.

Back in the day, my world was filled with young people who’d committed suicide either through a singular act or the drawn-out process of addiction because their families and communities wouldn’t support their spiritual becoming. They tried to fit it into the philosophies and practices that existed or were thought to exist ‘as they were supposed to’. Because those who came to me were indigenous, they were trying to navigate through a mashup of Christianity and other practices that have specific ‘rules of the game’ to be real. Yet, what these young people were experiencing fell outside the rules of the game. For instance, if in Nunavut, one is not ‘supposed to’ experience Ganesh or Nagas or Mannanan Mac Lir, or Yemojah or Beings from the Dagara or Samí. If one is experiencing those things and trying to express their truths in a community that expects and accepts only certain expressions, then one is outcast, metaphorically and literally.

We don’t know how to nurture others outside of our own fear. We’re not taught how to do that yet we lionize those (though mostly after they’ve died showing us their worth via courage) who step outside the social expectations and rote that hold us back. When someone else’s courage merely inspires our own fear instead of questions like, ‘How can I help’ all we do is encourage more fear.

I watch partners drop into paternalistic roles to control their companion, spiritual ‘teachers’ demand compliance to ‘the rules’ that keep them in comfort, therapists and psychiatrists create cages around acronyms instead of learning how to open the fucking things. (Though the field is opening up it’s own cages, slowly but surely) and parents are certain children must contort to the parents’ own confines.

These are some of the reasons I speak openly about suicidality, to bring that and ‘spiritual awakening’ or evolution out of the dark ages and bleached experiences into the practical world. Most people have no idea that Jesus and Mohammed and Sakyamuni and Tekanawita and damn-near every one of those of this lineage that has come before me navigated suicidal thoughts and plans. We do so because we are pushed beyond the boundaries of acceptability from others and that often means intentionally being excommunicated. We’re forced into that because this singular expression of love cannot coexist with fear.

Jesus didn’t keep a diary but Mohammed and others did. Archangels Gabriel and Urial had to repeatedly talk Mohammed off ledges. Sappadasa didn’t achieve enlightenment until he put a razor to his arm. Sakyamuni didn’t get to his understanding of suicide until he experienced it himself. Self-immolation is considered by some as beyond the self. And each was reviled before he was revered not because of the suicidality itself but because of the boundary-breaching expected by the guiding God/Universe and how that tested their individual limits and those of community.

It’s also one of the reasons that if I’m working with someone in this process I don’t bail on them. Because, nearly to a one, they’re excommunicated or confined in others’ fears and conformities. They’re not greeted with curiosity because curiosity may mean a rejiggering of our own identity, a realization that they’re doing work we don’t have the courage to do or jealousy because they can stretch where we can’t and more. If we get curious about someone else, we may have to be brave ourselves.

These spiritual processes are rarely considered valuable by the soon-to-be practitioner or those around them until there’s hindsight because we truly can’t trust the process when we’re in it—especially when others respond to us in fear.

To those who walk this alone, a deep bow of recognition and gratitude for your steadfast trust in the face of doubt and fear.

To those who walk this with suicidal ideation, please stay. We need you. We’re better with you. Reach out. I’m here.

To those who are afraid of people around you pushing what is deemed acceptable, try to put yourself in their shoes. Make it an experiment, not of controlling them or potential outcomes that you absolutely cannot see, lean into empathy and see what is really stirring within you around their experiences. Can you put your own spiritual practice to work in the context of their unfolding?

I’m going to broaden the context here in an effort to make a point: Empathy is used by hostage negotiators. It’s the first tool because it works.

Are you holding someone hostage—perhaps even yourself? Will you create space outside your need to control another and see what opens up?

There is no one way. There’s only The One’s way. And the only way is to go through: bullheaded, scared shitless, steeped in wonder and trust, kicking and hollering while you’re held and guided by truth for those things that are impossible to see while you’re in the process.

I love you.