Return to Eden
God, I am ready to face the darkness that comes before light, the pain that comes before relief, the fear that comes before trust. I am ready to be who I am and let go of who I am not.
In the center, we can say these things and mean them for they are true. But away from our center, we forget who we are and where our needs are met. Facing our fears often means reaffirming our commitment to loving ourselves in the wilderness, when our faith in God and the Way is shakable. Trust is not built in the promised land but in the desert, it is our return to Eden, the prodigal son's return to his father's home. These are three stories in one, but each speaks of our predicament differently, namely, our ability to return to who we are and under what circumstances.
In the first story, The Garden of Eden, our exile is assumed to be God's decision and our way back is almost impossible. How can we redeem ourselves from “sin” and our “sinful” nature? In the second, Exodus, God aids us in our return, but warns us against regression, reminding us that the Promised Land is our birthright, but only when we are ready to give up what enslaves us. And in the third, The Prodigal Son, Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God's love is here and now, with reminders that we cannot easily experience it until we are ready to give up the material desires of this world. Yet it need not take 40 years, but perhaps only 40 days.
All the stories and teachings of the bible are about this very predicament—that we are easily tempted by the things of this world and our human nature, and that choosing such things keeps us in exile; but also that God's love is boundless, and our return to our experience of it lies in the choices we make. At the core of these choices is our belief in who we are and whether God loves us unconditionally, and our willingness to face what is temporarily uncomfortable for the promise of eternal life (i.e., peace and joy). If we cannot face what is in front of us (i.e., our experience) and cannot meet it with openness and compassion, then we cannot live our life awake. Our life is happening in this moment. It may be pain, it may feel overwhelming, it may feel sad, regardless of whether such feelings are direct responses to what is happening or our interpretations of it. The why does not matter as much as the choice to be present to it.
We are always here in the Garden, but it is up to us to choose to be here. We may believe we are exiled, but it is not so. That is only a dream, and when we awake, we realize we are still in the garden and have never left. But we can spend our whole lives seeking to return, firm in the belief of our exile.
