It sounds funny, but among the keys to true happiness is despair.
By despair I mean experiencing deeply the pain of choices we make that are harmful to ourselves and others. Choices of belief. Choices of rationalization. Choices of denial. Choices of judgment. Any choice of us and them. When we touch the core disharmony of such choices, the experience is so excruciating that we awaken in ourselves a commitment to do whatever it takes to never make that choice again. We may not be always successful, but we’re always committed.
The biggest despair in my life occurred nearly 30 years ago when I knew that if I didn’t choose another path I would die––and as they say in AA, death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to us, only the last thing. The compass of my integrity had lost any reliable polestar.
Giving up drinking has been an important part of recovery, but fulfilling the desire not to pick up that first drink, while essential, was merely one ingredient of the life I wanted: to feel the presence of God in every breath. I claim no special proficiency, but I do feel like the prince of light compared to who I was then.
For such a God guy, it’s interesting that I don’t pray much. Or more precisely, I seldom ask for things. I figure my life is exquisitely configured to give me all I need to grow my romance with everything. My job is simply to love, more and better. I could be kidding myself. Maybe I’m praying all the time and just don’t recognize it. I think it was Emerson who said our every thought is a prayer, and every prayer is answered.
I did ask for something recently. The despair of being unable to free a siege of rage prompted the outburst, “Yo! I need help here!”
As if the divine had been only waiting for my call, very quickly I received an answer: Perform a certain mantra while following my breath—and not only that, live from that place. Have that practice be the core of my life.
Easier said than done, of course. Like everyone else, my attention is regularly sidetracked by the dancing monkeys of ego and all the nasty habits they feed. Yet, because those monkeys represent the absence of love, I inevitably meet despair. And when I do, I return to this practice. Someday, I’m sure, I’ll get good at it.
Gender notwithstanding, we’re all the prince of light. We just forget. Despair helps us remember.
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