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  • Writer's pictureAnnelisa MacBean

Beyond Birth and Death

In each moment, the archetypal unfolding of beginnings and endings is being enacted within and around me. Old dreams, ideas and beings are dying in order for new forms to come into being. This is not an indication of error, but of wholeness, and the relentlessness of Truth, of Love, to make its way here, to become manifest.

The relationship I thought would last forever, the career I thought would support me, the dissolution of a close friendship. The falling apart of my health, not being seen by others, the crumbling of everything I thought was so important. The dissolution of so many insights, realizations, beliefs and images I have worked so hard to maintain. Death is constant, sometimes unexpectedly liberating, and sometimes incapacitating.

The cycle of birth and death is the way of form. The physical manifestations of Truth, the literal life-forms that Truth takes, our bodies and everything I can perceive in the physical world, inevitably comes and goes. . But the Presence of Truth itself is beyond birth and death. It is an eternal field from which all form is birthed. Forms dance in through an experience of living, only to die, to be recycled back into the vastness, in preparation to be reassembled in new ways, and birthed once again.

Deep within me there are unfolding layers of knowing and vision and information that presage an emergent Truth that is mine to manifest, mine to make physical. I look carefully and listen closely, attuning to that which I have known but forgotten for so long. It will become manifest, birthed through my beingness.

Honoring the forms of Truth as they appear, as they are, rather than as I would like them to be, I can meet the unmet, hold the unheld, and include the excluded. Acknowledging the emergence or surfacing of painful forms, ideas and beliefs, stories and experiences, however uncomfortable or distorted, allows them to depart, to continue their journey, to return home.

Yes, my heart does break as forms dissolve and die before me. But I grieve more deeply for the loss, the death of unmet opportunities to bring Truth into this world. Paradoxically and thankfully, as my heart breaks it also opens a bit more to the cycle . . . to birth, to the ongoing emergence, to the manifestation of love.

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