"After enlightenment, the laundry" is a famous Zen Buddhist saying. As humans, we dance precariously between two realms: from the divine to the mundane. Enlightenment sounds so mystic, so epic, so magical; a carefree existence where we are elevated miles beyond the hassles of mere mortals. And while enlightenment as Buddha called it, or God-realization as the Eastern ancients called it, is indeed a high state of consciousness, it too is a process of shedding preconceived ideas about what it means to wear the badge of an ascetic and learning how to navigate a strange new inner world.
I was thinking how spiritual transformation is akin to the metamorphosis from a caterpillar to the butterfly. It's like waking up to find you're out of the chrysalis and you've grown wings after a horrendous struggle (that lasted hundreds, or thousands of incarnations). I'd never considered what happens to a butterfly after she gets her wings. I assumed she would live happily ever after. I mean, what could be more carefree than the life of a butterfly? But the Zen saying about the laundry is true. While we may have graduated spiritually, life goes on as before, and the laundry has been multiplying while we were meditating. A few facts I learned that made me appreciate the butterfly anew, and also confirmed that enlightenment isn't a snap:
When the butterfly first emerges from the chrysalis, both of its wings are soft, because the butterfly had to fit all its new parts inside its tight cocoon. Like most life-altering happenings, my spiritual awakening occurred quietly within my own heart. It was a sweet event flanked by an uncontrollable cascade of grateful, humble tears. I cried for two solid days (at everything) because my wings were so soft. I was raw, wide open, and like the new and delicate butterfly, easily crushed. But I was free! Finally free of what other people thought. This unbounded freedom made me want to dance about and pray unceasing. My Soul was celebrating! I could only think of prostrating myself before the Hindu and Christian masters who had shared their wisdom with me in books. I felt so grateful-for everything! Grateful to have walked a road of suffering, grateful for the suffering to come, grateful for everyone who had ever taken the time to love me. I had been so full of myself that when I was finally cleaned out, I was empty inside, though it wasn't a lonesome kind of emptiness. More like a hall that has been swept clean. Due to years of endless seeking God, I didn’t have to push the door open-it had swung wide all on its own. I suppose my heart was tired of being full of myself and my useless agenda. I was overcome, awash with tears as every stronghold against the divine was swept out to sea. I heard music, and the sun rose for the first time on my mind. It was sweet and strong like a captivating perfume, but I was the only one who could smell it. I couldn’t believe I was the only one able to hear the music. I felt a loneliness for someone who could understand this sunrise that was only shining for me. I had never wanted people around me, I only wanted to be left alone and to write, to keep the world at a safe distance. But in that moment, I wished I wasn’t the only boat out at sea. I realized as time marched on that this was impossible experience to share with another person, for it was not meant to be shared with anyone but God.
But let's get back to the butterfly. Next, it must rest and gain strength for its new journey. Like the butterfly, a period of intense withdrawal followed my rebirth experience. God and I would commune for hours through the medium of meditation, like two lovers hungry to know each other. It is like that, God realization: God wants to talk to you all night. It is beautiful like that, it is soft, cozy and intimate like that. The thing I couldn’t get over was that God wanted all of my attention, and I wanted all of Gods. We were lost at sea and the sun rose for us in silence. We didn’t even have to talk-often we didn’t, mostly I just wept. I’m not sure why I had so many tears, but some of us are crying saints, and some are laughing saints, and others are saints who haven’t realized they are saints yet.
God realization sometimes feels like being lost, because the further you travel in your spiritual journey, the further away from mainstream popular thought you get. You must re-learn who you are, and how to spend your time. While enlightenment sounds romantic and perfect, it is at first disorienting, for it is stepping into a different world. The ego melts, finally giving way to the you buried beneath the layers of hurt that life piled on. But this new you holds a radically different attitude and perspective (which is why I changed my name). It is like moving to a new country. While a foreign country is beautiful and fascinating to explore, you don't yet speak the language, and you don't know anybody (except for God, who brought you). So, you hug close to God, because in this new dimension you haven't the slightest idea how to navigate or who to turn to. It's like being a child all over again. I think this is why Swamis and gurus spend so much of their time lost in meditation. It is simply because they do not feel at home anymore in this world. The only one they recognize and who gives them meaning is in the next realm, so they prefer to stay there. It's not that I'm hiding, for I feel a keener sense of responsibility to teach and coach, and to write books than I have ever felt. No, I'm not interested in escaping anything anymore. I've just moved from one dimension to another, and my thinking is so radically unlike it used to be that I am reaching out like a shy child who starts a new school and badly hopes for a friend to show her around. God realization is more real, and more life altering than I could have imagined.
Before the butterfly takes to the sky, it pumps blood into its wings to get them in working order and flapping. The butterfly must prepare before it tries flight, adapting to its new streamlined flying apparatus and abilities. Enlightenment isn't instantaneous, either. You must orient yourself, for there's no more making your own plans. You trade the ego and its agenda for doing every single minute what your heart is directing you to do. The thought of taking up my old agenda makes me cringe. In fact, doing anything except for what I'm being directed to do is like approaching an electric fence and getting within a foot of it to realize I cannot move any closer. There is a strange invisible barrier between me and anger, or my own plans which keeps me backing away from it; I never expected that. And now I am so unimpressed with myself that I am happier living in a tiny home with a dash of my favorite art. I honestly couldn't care less about money, cars or houses, because they don't guarantee happiness. In fact, they had tripped me up. This is a strange new land-and while I would not go back from here, I am struck by how radically different things are. But then, all of me needed to be changed, which is why I supposed it happened. Nothing less than a complete and total overhaul was necessary, for I had become corrupted by the illusion of success. What's left of me is a stripped-down version. And while my lifestyle has become minimalist, my soul has become extravagant, craving more time to talk with others about being at this new school of thought, for I am just finding my way around.
But for the butterfly, in a short time its preparation is complete, and it masters flight. This brilliant bug takes to the air in search of two things: flowers to feed on, and other butterflies to mate with. One of the most surprising aspects was my immediate need for connection. I thought the moment of enlightenment would bring understanding, but instead, it brought a desire for connection. You take flight into meditative states far superior to anything you were able to achieve before. In fact, you fly so high in meditation that it becomes difficult to return to earth. This is why masters of meditation don't concern themselves with worldly affairs. They exist mostly in another unseen dimension and the body is only the anchor that drags behind them.
The thing to know about God realization is that it isn’t an event like a party or an anniversary. It isn’t gaining some otherworldly knowledge that the rest of the world cannot have. It is instead a private moment that will happen when you’ve sat at the bottom of the holy hill until your butt hurts and your eyes are too tired to be looking anymore. This is when it will happen-when you’re not expecting that it will. The only advice I can give you is to keep seeking, and like the sages say, it will come to you. I hope I will meet some of you there...should I save a seat for you? And don't forget, the laundry will be waiting.
To see all of Devi Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0
To see all of Devi Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0
