You’ve been hard-headed. Or, the Gods assumed you wouldn’t listen so they walked into the house of your life, turned the lights off and rearranged your furniture. They asked your lover to leave. They tossed your money in the garbage and burned it. They called pivotal family members home. They turned down the volume on your children’s ears so they wouldn’t listen to you and put your body in what seems to be a permanent sleep mode. You are in the dark listening helplessly to everything you hold dear being dragged across the floor or tossed aside.
Everything that was important to you no longer matters. You have no vision. You can’t hear and you can’t see.
What should you do? There is nothing for you to do. There is nothing you can do. For it is in chaos that we draw nearest to the voice of the Highest. We see more clearly. The voice that’s been whispering all along is now the sound we cling to just make it through one more day. You become reacquainted, intimate lovers again, you and that voice; you and YOU. You come to know and heed the voice of your higher self. Becuase you’ve probably been ignoring that small voice, when that voice is the one that is in constant dialog with the Universe.
There is no escaping the pain. No shortcuts in the Abyss. And, it can happen multiple times in a life. So roll into it. Fall into it and be with the pain. Don’t fight anything about it because it is giving you instruction. As painful as it may be, get rid of everything that causes you not to be in your abyss. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Do not go to the club and try to pretend shit’s cool. Be still. Be quiet.
There looks to be a depression epidemic sweeping, at least, the West. And I’m making the educated guess that this is nothing more than a hedonic hangover. We’ve had too much and wasted too much. Disconnected ourselves from each other, raised our expectations for material success, and completely forgot we weren’t running this show alone. We’ve forgotten each other.
Things I’ve learned in my Abyss(es).
I know when it’s coming. I can hear the steps of the gods of on my front porch and I think to myself “Damn. Here we go” I start making arrangements like I’m leaving town. I wrap up lingering projects and relationships. I clean the house and stock up on food. I go to work and do whatever I can just to get by. I come home for yoga and I sleep. My suggestion to you is to do the same.