Namaste

I got my feelings hurt at therapy last week.

Talking about my recent disconnect in my relationship with God, just not feeling as close to Him as I had several months ago; my therapist (not one to mince words) basically told me that I couldn’t blame God for the poor choices I have made.  It’s not His fault; it’s my fault.

Well, that is true.  But ouch.

I went home quite disturbed, and the next day I had this dream:

There were children on a stage, rehearing for a play.  I was asked to transcribe what they were saying.  I went up on the stage, too.  In the back, on stage right, at a small table, sat my VAIO.  I walked over to it, but there was a small rock, a jack-rock, sitting on my computer.  I brushed the rock off, sat down, opened my computer, and began to type what the children were saying.

 Suddenly, from stage left, a man came up on the stage from the audience.  He was not part of the play.  He walked across the stage, stopped near me, bent over, picked up the rock that I had brushed off earlier, and flung it at me like you would skip a rock.  He hit me right in the throat, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment.  The rock dropped from my throat into my hand.  Meanwhile, he continued walking away and began going down the stairs off the stage.

I tried to yell at him, but I couldn’t.  I cleared my throat and tried to yell at him again:  “You just hit me with that!” I yelled.  (And also actually yelled it in real life, too!)  The man turned around and looked at me.  It was my therapist.  He said, “Those children could have stumbled on that rock.  It’s your rock to hold.”

I realized that what I had done was dangerous, that I could have injured someone.  I was hurt and angry.  I looked down at the rock, and wondered what to do with it.

Over breakfast, I contemplated the meaning of the dream.  Obviously, having the rock thrown at me was similar to the way I felt during my session.  But what was the rock?  At first I thought it was symbolic of my acceptance of my responsibility, no longer blaming God.  But then, I couldn’t figure out how that would make the children stumble. So I thought some more.  What had I cast aside that I should be holding?

No time for further contemplation—it was Carina’s birthday, and still a school day.  Rush to art classes, then to our special restaurant for tea with the grandmothers.

After lunch, Carina and I wandered around in the gift shop.  She went around the corner, and I heard her say, “Hey Mom, look!  Rocks! (Sarcastically)” I went over to where she was, and there was a container of rocks with inspirational words on them, and I thought, “Hmmm….”  So I looked at them, and there was one rock that looked like a jack-rock.  It was upside-down, so I picked it up to see the word on it, and it said “Namaste.”  Never easy with me.  It couldn’t just say “Faith” or “Love.”  So I pulled out my Droid and looked it up; the Wikipedia definition was “I bow to you,” which I found interesting enough to explore further, so I bought the rock.

I went home, and did some research on the word.  It’s a composite Sanskrit word, the first part; “na-ma,” literally translates as “not mine.”  The second part comes from the word “te,” which means “you.” “Nama” (not mine) signifies that I am not my own, but I belong to Another.  “Te” tells to whom I belong.  Thus “Namaste” means to submit to another, with complete humility; a surrender of self in order to become more like the God to which you are submitting.

*Note* Namaste is also a greeting, a “hello” and “goodbye” that has a lovely meaning.  When said to another person, it means, “I recognize the image of God within you, and I honor you because of it.”             

   

Namaste—I completely give myself, I surrender my whole being, keeping nothing back, no questions or arguments, in complete humility and submission; and through the emptying of self I will find myself full and overflowing with God.

So here I am, sitting with my Namaste rock.  Thinking back to my dream.  And my therapy session.

Because I could not understand the nature of God, I assumed the worst, distrusted Him, and refused to invite Him to participate in my healing.  I chose self over Namaste.  I refused to bow.

The unbearable problem is the one I try to bear on my own.  The unfaithful god is the one I create in my head.  The love I am missing is the love I fail to look up and see.

And the children in the dream?  I have been given a deep desire to help others who have been through experiences like mine.  But if I am holding a grudge against God, I will cause the “children” to stumble.

I desire to live a life of perpetual submission; daily, hourly, even by the moment, giving over thoughts, desires, worries, confusions, pain.  And not just giving over, but giving back; thanksgiving, praise, adoration, acceptance—for what is, was, and what is to come.  Knowing all the time that the giving will be so greatly overshadowed by the receiving that I will be showered with grace, and overwhelmed by the merciful love of my Father.

Namaste.  I can’t decide if it’s hard or easy.