Читать книгу Living Long, Living Passionately - Karen Casey - Страница 13

I don't know about you, but I have stumbled many times getting to where I am now. I began stumbling, literally, when I took my first drink at thirteen. Hiding behind the garage at an outdoor family gathering, I gulped down my whiskey and coke before anyone could notice me. The rush I felt was quickly matched by the uneasiness I experienced as I headed back to the group. With darting vision, I hurried into the house so no one would guess what I had been up to.

What I could have learned then was that alcohol had the capacity to trip a person up in more ways than one. However, what I learned instead over the next few months was that with every drink I took, I felt a bit less fear. Around boys in particular. Over time, the continued use of alcohol gave me the courage to stand apart, to move forward, even to eventually set many highfalutin goals, most of which seemed way beyond my reach, throughout the next thirty-three years.

As an example, I'm convinced that I would not have tackled graduate school following the demise of my twelve-year marriage if I had not fueled up on alcohol. Perhaps that seems like a farfetched idea, but I'd venture to guess that many alcoholics in the rooms of AA would concur. We could muffle the cries of the scared ego if we drank just one more whiskey on ice. I knew I wasn't a scholar, in my sober moments; but with a little alcohol in my system, I was certain I could accomplish what the others around me were accomplishing. And one of the areas I was fearless about was writing. While I observed my fellow students avoiding like the plague the major papers that were required for every course, I eagerly leapt to the challenge. Unafraid. Undaunted. Undeterred.

That I met the challenge successfully gave structure to the rest of my life. Learning, as I did, how pleasurable writing could be set the stage for my passion to flourish. Twenty-nine books later and I'm still committed to the dream. The fortunate news is that I didn't have to keep drinking to accomplish it. In fact, had I continued to drink, I would have failed the final test. Writing the dissertation took a sober head. I feared I couldn't master that. But I did, with the help of many others.

I am not assuming that you, the reader, had a journey like mine, one that was both helped and then hindered by alcohol, but before I go further, let's pause. Think about your own journey from your teen years to now. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. Just as suggested in the introduction, pause, breathe, and pause again.

What do you see and feel?

What could have deterred your journey but didn't? Or if it did, for a spell, what happened to change your course? To pull you back on track?

Does it seem to you that your trajectory has been intentional? What does that mean, in fact?

I am comforted by the opinion that our journeys are quite intentional. That they were predetermined; some would say preordained. Caroline Myss, the spiritual intuitive I referred to earlier, says that all experiences with all others are “sacred contracts,” encounters agreed to before “awakening” into this life we currently lead. She says the agreements we made are equivalent to the “education” we receive. And that education is not only for our benefit, but for the benefit of others as well.

I am well aware of how some of my experiences strengthened my character and served as the example to others of what a single experience is capable of doing for us. For instance, as I mentioned in another essay, I learned the true depth of forgiveness as a result of an unwanted sexual encounter when I was a young girl. It was not sought by me, of course. I was an unwitting participant, and I was haunted by the many experiences for decades thereafter. Had I had an inkling that I was going to be privy to the real meaning of forgiveness as a result of the encounters, perhaps I would not have been so frightened by them. But I didn't know. I didn't understand. I didn't see the big spiritual picture. And it wasn't until I read Myss's Sacred Contracts that I fully understood the meaning behind the experiences, a meaning that has informed my life like no other:

You probably know people who seem to have had their entire life mapped out from the day they were born. You may have envied their sure sense of what they were born to do—their work, career, marriage, and personal goals.

And yet you have probably also wondered whether that was really all there was to it. So have I. The answer I found is that there's much more involved. I believe that each of us is guided by a Sacred Contract that our soul made before we were born. That Contract contains a wide range of agreements regarding all that we are intended to learn in this life. It comprises not merely what kind of work we do but also our key relationships with the people who are to help us learn the lessons we have agreed to work on. Each of those relationships represents an individual Contract that is part of your overall Sacred Contract, and may require you to be in a certain place at a certain time to be with that person.

—Caroline Myss, Myss Library

Before moving on to another essay, can you see an overall pattern to your life? If so, name as many features as you can.

What surprises you most about your life now?

What pleases you the most?