There is a belief in some spiritual circles that each of us, as we travel through life's journey, develops a duality of soul. One becomes encumbered with the burden of trials, the masks we present to others and the consequences of our choices. This is the side we present to the world, for better or worse, and the one we believe is our true self.
The dual part of us begins simultaneously, at our birth, but remains unblemished by the everyday bruises we all encounter. It is not swayed by spilled coffee or harsh words from others. It is the most evolved part of ourselves, growing and ever-changing by the larger lessons in life. Courage. Faith. Love. It is the part of us that endures after we take our final breath.
Many spend their entire lives striving to find this inner core, rooting out relationship after relationship or career after career, believing that true self is a reward to be collected at the end of a winding path. Is it possible that our authentic selves are not something we left behind in a moment of wrong and must retrace our steps to find? The thought that this perfect, untouchable part of ourselves develops alongside the flawed first and will be there at the pinnacle of our lives when we most need it lends comfort to the inevitable end of our time here. That for all our imperfections we present to others, there is still a part of ourselves that is truth.
Is there a way, then, to nurture our authentic selves? Does some kind of peacefulness or one of those inexplicable warm glows wash over us in moments when we are in harmony with who we are becoming? Can we glimpse our authentic selves through a panoramic lens that takes in the bigger picture of our time here? What we're meant to learn?
What do you think?
3 comments:
Your beautifully written post reminded me of something I read in one of Hugh Prather's books--Notes on Love and Courage.
(Hunting through my bookshelf so I can get the quote exactly right... :-)
Okay, he wrote: "The feeling is: I am becoming more like myself. That implies either a potential wholeness or a concurrent wholeness. If in some sense I am already what I am changing into, then possibly I can draw more fully upon that existing state."
Have you read his work before?
I haven't read any of his stuff, but I'll be sure to check it out. Thanks, Marilyn :)
It sounds like the yen and yang -- two parts of the same whole.
Interesting thought.
Is that why sometimes I'm nice and sometimes I'm not?
I always thought it was hormones, but maybe you're right . . . it's all part of the bigger picture.
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