A Closed Door to the Past

close door to past
There was nothing left to glean from all this revisiting. No more knowledge, no more insight, no more wisdom to be mined.

Brighthill is proud to bring you a guest blogger, Rashi Starlight.

When I was writing up my notes for a pentacle class a few weeks ago, I was pondering how it would be to get out of balance with each element. It wasn’t until several weeks later that I realized that I was living my life way out of balance with Spirit. I was too much in Spirit, and so obsessed with working out issues that it prevented me from connecting with Deity. More importantly, I was so out of touch with myself that I became mentally isolated from my entire life and found it impossible to find joy in the now.

I became so intent with working out feelings from the past that I started forcing myself for go farther and farther back and basically reliving every wound, every slight (real or imagined) that I ever felt. I constantly thought about past relationships, past tricks, childhood slights, how much I dislike my parents, blah blah blah blah… After I spent days forcing myself to “face” and “deal with” every emotional ache and pain that I had experienced in high school, I finally understood that I was just torturing myself for no real reason. And that I was being outright stupid.

And hence, the title of this post and the picture of a CLOSED DOOR. I was in meditation, in the throes of yet another episode of angst from some forgotten bully who was mean to me 30 years ago, when suddenly I said, “This is nonsense!” So, I forced myself up, took off my clothes, and lay in the tub under the shower praying to see what the point of this all was. And it came to me…there was none. We live in an Oprah, New Age world where every pain, every sorrow needs to be beaten into the ground with hours of talk and years of therapy. I did all this and paid my dues, and it came to me that I was done. None of it mattered.

I could spend endless hours reliving everything in my past (which wasn’t that bad, in the big scheme of things) or I could just say, “ENOUGH!” I had enough of process, of reliving trauma, of trying to make things worse or better than they may have been. There was nothing left to glean from all this revisiting. No more knowledge, no more insight, no more wisdom to be mined. I do not consider myself to be wise, enlightened, a “survivor” or whatever modern terminology applies to dictate what you should be. But I know that I have seen, dealt, and grown. It can all be put into permanent storage now.

So, underneath the soothing water of the showerhead, with my Walmart candles lighting the bathroom, I decided to shut it all off. I visualized a door slamming on all this baggage. Mom, Dad, high school, probation, old shames, and unrequited love no longer mattered. Nostalgia no longer matters. The door on the past is closed. Slammed, with great force.

Having never had one, I don’t believe in “a-ha! moments,” but I can say that this was definitely a shift in perspective. I was ready to enter the world of the living and the world of now. I felt lighter, happier, and motivated to do things for the sake of doing them, just because I wanted to. I finally understand that to overcome life challenges, you have to actually overcome them—not relive them over and over, hoping that some nugget of insight will come down from the sky to instantly make you a light being. I experienced pain and lessons, and I learned about what makes me tick and what makes me go down a rabbit hole of despair. Now I just want to do my thing and live my life again.

I remember some awful pop song from the 70s where some confessional singer kept saying, “These are the good ol’ days.” All of the different phases of my life, before “enlightenment,” were happy. I lived in the now and had fun. Some disastrous results occurred, but what the hell? I had tons of “good ol’ days,” and I was sad because I should be having them again. All the things were aligned:  great dogs, my coven, the workshop that I teach, a cute apartment, boxes of art supplies, and my friends who are really my family. The only thing that was in my way was the past. My quest to know myself got lost in a ghost land of half remembered despair that I felt I needed to heal.

Now I see that the healing comes in acknowledging, learning, and closing the door once and for all. These are the good old days!

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