The Key

“The me” is a flavor of being - a particular flavor out of all possible flavors in the vast universe.

Sometimes this flavor seems diluted, for instance when one sees himself as a harried victim of unpleasant vagaries. On the other hand sometimes it is concentrated and pungent, as when one stands in his power.

Then “the me” is perceived as passing through life’s stages intact and inviolable, deepening awareness without altering identity.

Being “the me” is not easy, since it requires a moment by moment sensitivity to the difficulties of incarnation. We experience ourselves as distinct entities separated from one another and from God, subject to birth, aging, and death, faced with necessity and sorrow, craving love yet knowing neither how to give or receive it.

To keep such existential discomfort in plain view is the opposite of what most people want. Yet this is what becoming “the me” requires. One must set his hand in the fire (so to speak) and leave it there, allowing the flames to burn without withdrawing into numbness and dumbness.

One must also renounce junk thoughts with the same relish as junk food, refusing to acknowledge any mental excursion offering a distracting reprieve from the awareness that one’s hand is in the fire.

With the energy gained from this arduous discipline, “the me” carves a tunnel through its inner psychic landscape, a tunnel which connects distant childhood to the present moment. By this means it gathers its various fragmented selves and unifies them into one coherent persona, ending the ancient inner conflict and crisis of identity.

Having thus consolidated its power, “the me” surveys this precious lifespan - its destiny to fulfill - and does so with high purpose and determination. It recognizes the world no longer as an adversary, but rather a colleague in its quest for wholeness. It sees itself as part of a milieu in which every circumstance serves its wondrous goal, functioning to provide whatsoever destiny may require.

Former threats dissolve and are replaced by guides, oracles pointing toward a door which had never before been visible. The door cannot be forced – no effort of will prevails against it. Yet it opens freely of its own accord when presented with the right key. And once opened, never closes again.

Thus “the me” pursues its silent and solitary purpose, widening the inner tunnel, consolidating all personal selves and intensifying its unique flavor of being.

In so doing it grows both more distant from the world, yet (ironically) more present within it.

Until at last it has become the very key

Able to unlock the brazen door

Of its own freedom . . .