Yesterday afternoon I was strolling on the beach with my friend and her new puppy, and was telling her how I think forty days is too long, that I may not have thought this through properly, and that I don’t actually know how I’m going to manage.
In the night I sat on the balcony covered in a blanket against the Autumn chill, watching a deep longing throb through my entire being. Why am I here…?
This morning a deep and connected phone conversation with a friend brought me the absolute knowledge that forty days is not enough.
You see, the mistake I’ve been committing thus far is to limit my Lenten attention to food, to what I can or cannot ingest, and how to live off my own list of personal prescriptions and proscriptions. Of course there’s also been prayer and meditation practices, but the in-between bits, the quiet moments that are the glue that holds my Lent together has sadly been this list. So this fear that I may not be able to cope with the forty days actually comes from this food focus.
But the list is not the point at all. I’ve mislead myself completely, and once again, have reduced my life to Maslow’s level one needs.
My Lent intention is a radical act of confronting, and being confronted by all my mistruths, all the things I use to occupy the space of me, resulting in my life spent yoyoing between self-recognition and self-betrayal.
I want to remember mySelf. This is why I’m doing this. This Lent process is intended to help me gather myself back to myself, to re-member myself back to Self, to who I truly Am. It crushes me that I have lost all memory of my true identity, and even now, as I dedicate a specific period of my life to do this work, that I still betray my intention by focusing on mindless distractions.
But perhaps this too is part of it? Part of the many temptations surely posted along the way?
I’m beginning to understand why A Course in Miracles says ego uses personal and global problems as an effective ploy to keep us, humanity, unconscious. I get it.
And now I recommit to my true Lent. Forty days is not enough to wade through the clutter of selfhood gathered through many lifetimes, creating a dizzying effect of the me I think I am today.
It is time to come back home to me, and to serve my Purpose. Forty days is definitely not enough.