I am writing myself away, not the real Self, but the history of the personal, separate, illusory self. Each revelation dissolves the story that seems to be held as identity, making room for what is. It is my hope that this story will release you from your own.
One of the most hilarious beginnings of a personal story or narrative that I’ve ever heard came from Steve Martin, the comedian, who said, in a movie and I quote, “I was born a poor black child….” in telling his story. I believe that I am the only one laughing at this point. But it is always funny to me because he is neither black nor poor. His beginnings are as ordinary as are mine.
Maybe not ‘All-American’ ordinary, but pretty close, my parents were immigrants from Poland and Russia, hard working with old fashioned values and outlooks, especially my father. I was raised to fear authority, but it was my inborn rebellious and curious nature to be outspoken. The first twelve years were spent in a Los Angeles suburb called Pacific Palisades, in the 60’s it was just a bedroom community, nothing special. The home environment included Russian, we spoke it at home and I didn’t speak English until I was five and had to because of my enrollment in kindergarten. When I was twelve my father was transferred to a job in Ogden, Utah, a move which I vehemently protested, but in the end sold out for, for a horse. That was the deal my parents and I made. I would move on condition that they would buy me a horse. In Utah, a land where in the 70’s you were an alien if you weren’t Mormon, we were alien with two strikes against us, not only were we not Mormon, we were Russian, from California. Really, it was almost if we had arrived directly from another galaxy.
I finished high school in Ogden, and even attended two years of college at the University of Utah before my parents were comfortable with me leaving the state at the age of 19 by myself, when I moved back to California and freedom.
I remember when I first individuated. It is the earliest memory I have of realizing I was having the experience of being a separate being and occurred was when I was very young. At the age of three, I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom and had a line of toys in front of me. I recall how I noticed, that instead of them and I all being One Thing, suddenly I was observing them from a separate point of view. It was as though the focus suddenly was coming from me and became clear, and objects or forms became separated, rather than images depicted on a single fabric, a unified field.
After that experience the story continued as completely ordinary and commonplace. So as to not bore the reader with too many details, I will condense. It was all pretty conventional until age 20 when I had an intense, life changing experience which I did not understand at the time.
My family and I were on a vacation in Northern California, we were staying at some log cabin type of resort in Trinidad, up near the Oregon border. Everything was quite uneventful. After dinner and a walk, we went to bed. I remember I was sharing a room with my mother, who was a light sleeper. Sleep came quickly and then a dream began. I dreamt that I sat on the floor in a small audience of people, in front of us stood a Native American woman; she was wearing a velvet blouse and silk pleated type skirt. Around her neck was a smooth, tear drop shaped stone on a cord, I assumed to be a talisman. She was telling us the secrets of the Universe, she had illustrated these secrets on a black board behind her, and then I woke up. Still drowsy and not quite aware I felt It. There was a presence that took over the whole room, it was so vast that I began to shake and broke out in a cold sweat. The Presence stayed, expanding swallowing 'me' up with It. I was terrified and could only think to myself, to It, “I’m not ready! I’m not ready,” over and over. Finally, it abated, and then left entirely. I lay for a few minutes in a sweat and then staggered to the bathroom to pee for a sense of normalcy. I was left with a sense of wonder and a feeling that something monumental had happened. But what had occurred I had absolutely no idea.
My life has not been ‘normal’ since. And yet, it is completely ordinary. To be continued.....
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