Prior to the onset of this illness, I had been tremendously strong and fit. And six years ago was taken to a place spiritually which was incredibly beautiful. It was peace, grace, harmony and Love.
Steady and forever. Echoes of a world beyond this one (even though I have always loved this one in a hands-on earthy way)
Steady and forever. Nothing could ever take away from me -that experience. And it wasn't a singular experience. It recurred -again and again.
It wasn't an escapist's dream. Sounds a bit like it, but it wasn't. It immersed me in returning what I found to grass-roots; bringing it back to Earth. Sharing -not only in words but with the energetic force and gentle grace of it.
Far from it being escapism, it was enrichment. It touched life, it enriched life, and it was always a place I could enter as true "home".
I knew it was a grace. I imagined it was very unlike life here generally. It was rarified air.
But the very first day I became suddenly unwell, I became strangely divorced from it.
The way of being which I held most dear. At 1.30 pm on the 27th March 2018 my life, meaning, connection with Soul, and finer feelings.... changed -suddenly and without warning.
I tried to reach that spiritual warmth. It was shockingly impossible.
My body was suddenly sick too.
I thought "It will pass."
It didn't.
Six months later it is still the same.
I now examine how much of my illness is existential agony. I have also examined the concept of the "Dark Night of the Soul".
This is not wasted experience; that much I do know. It is vitally important. This is the next step on a spiritual journey.
I also am aware that no-one can help except my own Soul. I look for my own spiritual advice from deep within.
The inner voice is mostly silent. There is a dreadful dryness, and a painful sense of separation. Worse than any physical pain I have ever known.
Something whispers "Endurance", and I see images of water shaping rocks over time.
There are times I resist it. And I try to reach back to that beauty and grace. I "see" it, but it has no scent, no flavour, no dimension.
It has not gone. It hasn't left. It exists in Spirit. And I have known it. But so often there is a form of grieving inside me.
Now I have to take the next trail on the spiritual journey.
It seems that something within me is withheld from it deliberately. Yet not unlovingly.
And something is whispering to me that there IS no "that was beautiful, and this is horrible". It is just a different stage of knowing. Just a phase along the way of learning.
I also feel (though I am not sure) it may help with the knowledge of Compassion.
Meanwhile I cry my tears, and continue on, treading day by day, continuing with the things which are steady and reliable and very ordinary -to the best of my ability.
I was visited by Grace. That can never be taken away by anything, and I was and still am, very blessed.
Now I learn courage, patience, hope, endurance, steadily holding those things close to my heart even though I suddenly cannot see them any more.
One day I will.
I have always thought that I could go through anything if I had God's presence with me, but like you have had to forego it for maturing my faith. The church today has no concept of the discipline of suffering and thinks that you are out of God's favour for your sins. Job again.
