I feel like autumn. As the leaves fall, so do my pretenses. My positionalities related to the world externa. As I watch the butterflies flit amongst the milkweed both feeding and laying eggs for chrysalis into a new life, I am reminded that in a world of constant becoming from ectopy to entropy, the dissolutive forces of life unfold, break down and shift into something altogether new.
Nature is my great teacher as I observe Her processes interwoven into my own life. A constant cascade of happenings so subtle, so dire that these transformative forces ignite the greater passions of my Soul as I surrender unto the sheathing process that brings me closer to myself as the One that is always becoming ever alive with God! I AM!
The First time I died was so long ago, it is barely memorable in the long stream of my Soul knowing. So much overlap from multiple life experiences almost make it a blended streaming, a convolution of exacting memory.
Perhaps I should count the deaths, the losses that were mini deaths, the surrendering unto the unfolding of Almighty Grace that were in itself many deaths that would catapult me unto a new life steaming.
Upon my second Soul cycle, the lineation’s that bound me to precipitous experiences to an age of wisdom now in reign. The boundless light of the Soul is ever in progression, always reviewing and even sometimes turning back in descension or de-evolution. Such paths are ultimately the teachers in the Soul’s quest for greater experience in the horizontal life. The linear urging of the human vessel is to unite with the divine spark of its inhabitant in a most visceral level, otherwise the Soul aspiration for flesh experience goes wholly unnoticed, as the precipitous urges of the body take over the Souls desire to indwell it towards its own benefit and growth.
How many times those losses came – the endings that brought new Beginnings. The pain that brought new light of awareness. The release of a dead child from my arms, twins from my womb, from my heart. So many children, so many lives. Motherhood gives birth, but is also a death of the autonomous self to another’s dependence. The symbiosis of the entwined Soul in utero offers a special unity in the life streaming.
And from all those shared experiences at the extension of another – children, lovers, family and friends. The lovers, most poignant, as it is the lover that there is surrender, a small death at a most intimate level. The collapsing in the remembrance of the divine bliss that fills the spirit. Yet, after a while, the lovers go, too. And there is the mirror, the self facing Self.
In that ultimate recognition, of reunification, there is yet another death. A death of personhood, the small self or ego predominance in submission to the “I”. The “I” of the Soul, the real Self, the true mother, lover, friend, and guide. All of these losses and small deaths are but preparation of the Soul’s submersion into the almighty I AM.
On the path of initiation, life and death is a constant cycle of Becoming – a knowing and strange comfort in the chrysalis into something new and more beautiful than before. The awareness that Life is eternal and begins and ends, like the ebb and flow of the waters of life, the yin and yang inflow into the other, none and one at the same time.
I remember the first time I died and yet, I will again, and again and again!
Alisa Battaglia 