I returned from a wonder-filled week with 75-plus beings on retreat. I say "plus" because I recognize that my experience went beyond the participants and included the people who supported the process in various ways and also included the physical spaces which held me through my experience.Yesterday morning, as I prepared for our final gathering, there was such a weight pushing or pulling on my chest. I couldn't quite put my finger on what was happening for me. I didn't feel sad as much as deeply moved. But again, my mind couldn't wrap itself around the cause of being so moved. I went about the routine that took shape in my mornings at Wisdom House; picking up Finn from Ken at 6:30am so he could accompany me on my morning exploration in Topsmead Park (Finn or Finnegan is Ken's seeing-eye companion). I showered, packed up my stuff, ate some breakfast, enjoyed short conversations with others getting ready to depart. But each time I breathed into the sensation in my chest, I began to cry, feeling deep fullness, feeling deep movement.
As Rupert's morning talk was coming to a close, I began to sense what might be happening for me. The experience with the teachings, with this community of people, in this space was culminating in the experience of becoming 'undone.' The sense of self that I have developed over 43 years on the planet was beginning to unwind and I was sinking into the heart of being. Maybe for most of us, a sense of self forms in armoring - it doesn't have to be particularly rigid armor, even a subtle sense of being separate creates a shield around the heart. Everything that is seen to be 'not me' (the world, people, animals, events, experiences) become 'other.' And the 'me' gets more seemingly solid. It also gets more fragile, more fearful.
"She comes undone" - a phrase generally associated with falling apart, losing one's grip on reality. Well, that's what was happening to me during our last meeting yesterday morning. I could hardly breathe. I felt like my solar plexus were being wrenched from my body. I couldn't stop crying. I had a vision of a prize fighter getting the shit kicked out of him in the ring. My sense of being a separate self within this community, this experience, with these teachings couldn't stand up to the truth of my being, the oneness of being.
I know that no one thing was responsible for this unwinding. There is no one thing. There's the possibility of opening to the All of it without the tendency to judge and manage and organize it within my thoughts. I show here a picture of Ken with Finn. On the surface of it, Ken and Finn seem like two. But my experience from the first moment of seeing Ken and Finn during our first night on retreat was a total melting of my heart. Something in the experience of seeing Ken put his forehead to Finn's face as we waited for the retreat to begin simply unhinged me. I saw truth in the seamless intimacy of these two and how they move in the world together as one, with the world. More with vision from connection than with the power of eyesight. I feel immensely grateful that Ken-Finn put a thorn in the armoring around my heart so that something else could come through and shine out. I also feel immense gratitude that Ken allowed me to be Finn-Martha each morning, moving through the woods and fields, noses to the air and to the ground.And immense gratitude to each seeming 'part' as represented by all the beautiful and shining faces that continue to melt 'me' as I recall my time with them.
Coming home last night and getting settled, Bradford out on a nearby lake reintegrating in his own way, I looked in the fridge and found a bottle of opened white wine. I giggled, seeing the name of the wine - "undone" - perfect. Welcome home.
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