Getting Real with God and Man

The ugly truth over a beautiful lie.

A Maquette from last month. Slowly getting back to the studio.

Yeah I said the G word.

What I’m about to share may feel a little edgy so I think it’s helpful to share two foundations of my practice so it’s a bit clearer what lens I’m looking through:

Honoring Divinity without Dogma: There is a Divine Creative Intelligence that moves us all. This force is referred to by many names God/Source/Spirit etc - I, personally, find all these names fit, and all fall short. That’s the ineffable for you, and I’m okay with mystery. I believe if we spend more time building our personal understanding and relationship with this energy and less time trying to define or control other people’s concept of it, the world will be a saner place.

All True paths lead to One: I follow what I consider to be good teachings and I don’t think any one path has a monopoly on that. I continue to learn from multiple wisdom streams and lineages, I’m not promoting “dabbling”, far from it - I’ve found feeling connected to multiple ways of understanding is actually a slower path, and requires more patience to cultivate. I respect and revere these paths, and I hold them with an open hand. At the end of the day I believe what Ram Dass says, that ultimately, all methods are traps. I’m most interested in the juice, not the cup that holds the juice.

And away we go.

A lot of people feel angry at God. And being angry with God can be terrifying to face.

And I mean very specifically with, as in being open with God about it.

And, like any relationship, the lack of honesty slowly but inevitably drives a wedge.

This is a common argument I hear from atheists. “If there is a God how come there is war, and poverty, disease, so much pain. If there is a God how can they be so cruel?!” Yeah, how can S/He? There’s a lot we don’t understand about being here on Earth, and I certainly don’t have the answer to those questions. But I do see that that anger at instead of anger with shuts down curiosity. And more importantly, it can shut down the heart to engaging with the Divine Intelligence of this system entirely if you let it. If you are supposed to love me, how could you ever hurt me in any way? (Actually a compelling argument that God did indeed make man in “His” image.) and so they turn their back.

And.

This lack of honesty can also look like denial. The clinging to the identity that “I’m too spiritual to be angry at God” because if I’m angry at God maybe that means I don’t have enough faith, which might mean I’m not a good person after all. Maybe I’ll be punished for my hubris. Maybe if my thoughts create my reality I’m just feeding more “negativity” into the feedback loop of life. You know, good old fashioned spiritual bypass. Left unaddressed, this makes Spirit a friendly acquaintance. You exchange niceties, but getting to the real nitty and gritty, no way? Because what if this friendly acquaintance only likes a part of you? Could they really love ALL of you? To ask that requires real faith. Real trust. And if you’re too afraid to find out, you never quite get beyond skimming the surface. With people or with God.

I grew up Christian, I love Buddhist philosophy, I have abandonment issues, I’m a Libra rising, I’m a Black. Woman. In America - Trust me, I know what it’s like to jockey for president of the Good Guy Club.

But more than all of that, thank God/Spirit/Souce/Karma, I’d rather have the ugly truth, over a beautiful lie. And I suspect if you’re still reading - so would you.

Anger is probably my biggest demon, and mostly because it wasn’t until WELL into my adulthood that I even knew it was there. And then once you know it’s there…what do you even DO with it. I’m getting a lot of practice with this as of late.

Fires burning inside me as the fires burn the Earth. Battling real and imagined slights all over the place. Watching who shows up, and how… and who doesn’t, in this - my most vulnerable time. And, if I’m not careful, neatly knee-jerk filing people into “good friends” and “bad friends”. Promoting and demoting people, I’m watching this closely, because on a soul level this is stupid and I know it, but on a human level appropriate access is wise. Being met, is a real and sacred need. And yes, it is true, it hurts like hell when people either can’t or don’t want to meet you.

And what I keep coming back to -

There is no obligation. No one is obligated to read my mind. Or agree with me. Or behave how I want them too (this is my least favorite realization). No one is obligated to understand my experience, even though it feels really nice when they do. Just as I am not obligated to anyone else. To entertain certain behaviors even if I can, on some level, understand them. But I’m finding it feels better when the action isn’t a pushing away, but more a letting everyone off the hook.

Including myself.

With some ever-shifting balance of responsibility, accountability, and grace.

Too much responsibility leads to - it’s all on me.

Too much accountability leads to - you owe me something.

Too much grace leads to - doormat.

Too little responsibility leads to - woe is me.

Too little accountability leads to - you’re playing me for a fool.

Too little grace leads to - declaring enemies.

People don’t owe me unconditional love. The only human that did love me unconditionally is not alive anymore. And I’m lucky to have felt that. That’s most certainly a part of my grief. Relating to people requires tact, and timing.

Relating to God does not.

Early last month, in front of my altar, I noticed I was in the longest stretch of time I’ve gone without crying. It had been several days. Perhaps my head was finally beginning to come above water a little bit? But also something inside of me felt unsettled. I haven’t done much of the questioning of: why my Mom, why this, why me… for whatever reason I haven’t really had those questions. And I have played back the tape of the last couple of years - where I could have prioritized our relationship more, how much space the dramas of being alive took up, work, busy - ness, other people. I absolutely did take having more time with my Mom, for granted. And I realized though I wasn’t railing over why it happened, I was in that moment absolutely LIVID that it happened. I mean, what the fuck. I’m so young, she’s so young, she was totally independent still. She seemed so healthy.

And I clenched. Am I giving into a poison? And Spirit, like any good true friend let me know.

You can be yourself with Me.

All of yourself. What, are you gonna pretend? For who’s sake? Are you fooling either of us? How can we ever repair if you’re not honest about the rupture. How can you expect me to meet you if you’re not giving me the opportunity to be with you in what’s actually true.

Then I got real with God, and God got real with me. I could suddenly see more truth in the situation because I wasn’t hiding truth within myself. Not as a test to get answers, holding my faith like a carrot to be dangled. Bartering with Source. No. I got real through lamentation.

I forgot about lamentation. And that lamentation is holy.

Lament is a part of grief (whatever it is you have to grieve). Lament is a part of life.

There’s so much we don’t understand. There’s extreme pain, loneliness, sickness, loveless actions, and tragedy here. Being alive will bring you to your knees. Probably the most famously known lamentation is the Biblical “Why have you forsaken me?”. In Buddhism and Hinduism it falls under Dukkha - the inevitable suffering that comes with life. And well, if Buddha and THE CHRIST are asking God what’s the deal with this place, I’m pretty sure from time to time, it’s expected that we’ll be asking that same thing too.

I think Anger is a poison, if it’s just cycling through the system indefinitely with no outlet. This is anger at. And Anger, like poison, exists. And in these (so far, very brief) moments I’ve been able to metabolize anger, express it in a way that doesn’t cause harm. It alchemizes into it’s true grace. Information. Vitality. And yes, a closer and more honest relationship with God.

Your Fellow Wanderer,

Allison