Growing Pains

My good friend Clayton writes in his blog about the impending move of some of our dear friends to the East Coast. Hira is one of my oldest friends in this city. We went to school together at Evergreen starting in 1995, and for 13 years she’s been my friend. We’ve grown much since those early days of adulthood, and as I reflect on what it means to have dear friends move away, I can’t help but try to hold on the bittersweet joy of witnessing the risks involved with spiritual growth and the pursuit of a life fully lived.

In my life, I often want to share those experiences which impact and change me the most. Of late, my involvement with WarriorSage and the work of David Deida has caused some of the most significant spiritual and practical shifts of my adult life. Because I recognize the value this work has in my own life and relationships, naturally my instinct is to invite my closest friends and relatives into that experience, hoping that they, too, will find renewed love and fulfillment through this work and this community.

A few have attended some of the introductory workshops, a few have attended some of the intensives, and a few have joined some of the local groups in which I particpate. Yet there are many more who, for one reason or another, have yet to take me up on my invitation to ‘check us out’. From my perspective, of course I see no reason why someone wouldn’t be interested in spending some time with a group of individuals who are committed to helping people live with more passion and authenticity, deepening their relationships and awakening of the deepest Truth inherent in each individual. Seems like a tasty recipe, right!?

What I have come to realize is that what feels, to me, like excitement in inviting others to take this risk, sometimes comes off as cultish or zealous. I’m not here to admonish myself for evangelizing the realization of Truth, mind you. I’m simply recognizing that my approach could use some polish, and living by example is almost always the best method of inviting someone into a new experience.

What does this have to do with pain, loss, growth and moving away? Humility. In espousing my preferred path to spiritual growth, I’ve sometimes overlooked the growth that others experience on their own path. As Emerson says,

“...that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till.”

In recent months I’ve witnessed the profound tilling of spirtitual soil by a few close friends and family. Clayton has talked much about his recent shifts in consciousness, particilarly around the subject of relationship. I spoke briefly to my brother a few weeks back, and the way he spoke of sharing his wisdom with friends in need was profound and inspiring.

Watching the growth of each of these people has been inspiring and humbling. In the wake of my own growth, I had failed to be attentive to the simultaneous growth of those around me, simply because the path was not the same. Thankfully, the awareness of The Wink finally caught up with me, and I let go of my rigidity long enough to see…

And then, of course, there is Hira and her family. Perhaps the outward reason for moving - attending Yale Medical School - isn’t what you might call a spiritual transformation. Nonetheless, to pursue your passion, to uproot your family from a loving community, to leave home and school - these things take courage. More than courage, though, these things take a profound trust in the expression of your spirit. They require the openness of heart to recognize that any sense of loss, discomfort or sorrow that results from your decision, ultimately pales in comparison to the expansion and evolution of your own existence as a loving, living, human being on Planet Earth.

Whatever sadness I feel in the loss of my friends to the East Coast must be tempered with the greater knowledge that they are making a choice to love more, to live more, and to be more. As Marianne Williamson says in her book, A Return To Love,

“...as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

How can I possibly hold fast to sadness, when I know that the world - or at least my world - is not so much losing a dear friend, but rather knowing a friend who has made the commitment to be more, love more and live more?

Hira, Todd, and Lucy - I love you and I will miss you. And I am so very, very proud to know you. The Divine rejoices at your courage.