Teaser Tuesday: Pilgrimage Through the Storm by Bindiya B. Chanrai #poetry #prayer #excerpt #giveaway #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

Poetry / Prayer

Date Published: Nov 20, 2024

Publisher:  Serapis Bey Publishing

“One does not become enlightened by imagining oneself as a figure of light but by making the darkness conscious.” 

Carl Jung (1875 – 1961)

 

A deeper level of consciousness can only be birthed from a space of darkness, the void of all possibility, as all of life has arisen from nothingness. Such is the paradox of awakening. When you find yourself held in suspension, and when you are catapulted out of everything you know to be true, it is easy to forget the truth of who you really are.

However, no matter the outer experiences, your innermost essence is unchangeable.

A sense of isolation and separation are undoubtedly facets of the dark night, but in reality you are never alone. Many people have walked this path before you, there are those who are currently engulfed in its midst and those who will follow.

The pieces in this book landed as my own journey through the wilderness. Each fragment is a lived experience, and each lived experience is a mentor.

I offer you these words as your companion while you transition through your own inner shadows…may they provide comfort as you move through the deepest levels of release and find your way home, to a self-compassion you never knew existed. 

EXCERPT

Introduction: The Womb

My eyes open with an unanticipated suddenness. I awaken with a fortress of pillows around me. Safe and secure in the silent darkness. There is a drop in my stomach, I remember. The self-created sanctuary of the womb a thing of the past. A dream shattered to pieces. The plug is out of the socket. I am switched off, absent from myself. Vanished, without a trace.

 Did I ever exist? A deep detachment, an incongruence. A profound disharmony between the world inside me and the world around me. My skin is ripping at the seams, something inside me is desperate to get out. How will I lay this demon to rest? Feelings of fear grip my body and hold me hostage. Enveloped in a state of temporary paralysis; I am caged. The new day brings a promise of endless possibilities. I decide to return the gift unopened. Today’s forecast; winds of despondency. 

The womb beckons me – again – but it is time to face another day. There are things that need to be addressed. Things which have to be done, no matter what my circumstance. Sunrise, an order that must be obeyed. The mundane rituals bear the load of climbing a mountain. I wonder, is the thought of doing something more of a burden than actually doing it? And yet, these daily undertakings throw me a life ring; prevent me from drowning. These banal everyday responsibilities; the key to my sanity. The ‘humanness’ of my situation, both a blessing and a curse. 

As I make a cup of tea, my eyes blankly rest on the world beyond the window. The barren trees and haunting, lonely skies are in commune with my reality. Autumn has come and gone with not so much as a whisper. The jewelled colours now faded leave me with a hollow heart. I am smothered in hues of grey, inhabiting this spartan landscape of gloom. Even the bitter chill that seeps into my bones does not wake me from this century old slumber. Yes, autumn has abandoned me with not so much as a goodbye. I have abandoned myself, with not so much as a goodbye. A subliminal sadness only magnified by the disappearance of the sun. Like a hamster in a cage, in a nomadic frenzy, I senselessly move from one thing to the next, leaving behind a trail of unfinished tasks. And then I pause, frozen, the all too familiar feeling of worry swoops in unannounced and bullies me into submission. A crippling vacuum shadows me all day. It seems the entire world is going about their business and I am forced to remain stationary. I stand with my open wound; reticent in its nature. 

Yes, I exist, but in name only; I am not living. I switch on the television, hoping the images on the screen will somehow reconnect me. But to no avail. The sounds that filter through the radio have the same effect. I remain, quite simply, totally disconnected. 

What gave me pleasure, is now reduced to nothing but a chore. What I looked forward to, now makes me want to hide in a box. However, I continue to put one foot in front of the other. I will get through today; as I did yesterday. Dawn will keep its promise tomorrow and arise as it always does. Perhaps, this is what my Beloved calls, unconditional love.

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