Spiritual Deception

Mary wanted me to hang on so that I would learn the art of letting go. She sure showed me. I’m amazed and humbled by her patience and unwavering support, her relentless pursuit to keep me on the straight and narrow which in all cases, have lead me back to her.

I understand deceit in a whole new way and realized I'd been living in a bubble. How else could I go on for months denying what was right before my eyes knowing full well it was not in my best interest? How could I continue in spite of myself, my intuition, my guides who insisted I wake up?

There is nothing more dirty than spiritual deception, nothing more harmful than giving your all in the name of truth and beauty only to have the tables turn and be something else, something sinister, something not of light at all, but of all that is twisted and dark. The light shines on that which is hidden from us.

What is it in us to want to give the benefit of the doubt? When is that truly called for? He’s a slow moving, calculating thief, a masterful engineer, who rarely catches glimpses of his true self. When the pain becomes too much, he buries it in favour of a false self, one he believes to be real. But shall I keep making excuses for him? Well, no. That would surely make me a fool and any damage I myself incur beyond that realization will be a result of my own self-deception, not his. He remains untouched, unscathed and without blame...though, only on the surface.

When I discovered the truth about him--the kind of truth that gets into your blood and rattles the bones--and understood the nature of all that crazy making which had taken a hold on me, I knew I was free even though the next phase of my heart wrenching sorrow was just beginning. It didn’t matter how often I practiced meditation, although I can appreciate its capacity to bring peace and calmness, these alone, under the guise of something else other than what they ought to be intended for, would not see me through. The process had become tainted. All of it appeared as a cover up, an illusion, a dream of sorts. One must be careful who they give their time and energy to and what for.

It isn’t that I suffer needlessly. Truthfully, I am living proof of the Work, of the Gurdjieff Work. This is my lesson and what a beautiful and painful lesson it is! You cannot imagine the inner struggle I endured day after day after day, unable to appreciate why these feelings of disturbance and chaos seemed to persist and follow me around like a cloud, a massive cloud that would not let up. I asked, “Is this what it’s all about? Is this really the Work?”

And so with denial at my door, I made attempts to rationalize and told myself these doubts were not real and unfounded. Thank goodness for this space because I now know better as I had been given the opportunity to investigate, uncover and verify for myself. Active listening woke me up to a simple truth. When a whiff of doubt greets me, I trace the thought by taking a step back. What was the thought, the feeling, the impression that entered my being just before I began to cover up its message? In that silence is where the truth resides. It will always be there, this inherent gift called Intuition.

It is not about what we want and what we desire. It’s about what is right and true, what is permanent and not transitory or fleeting. Be weary of those who tell you they have your best interests at heart when everything they do tells you otherwise. Do not fool yourselves like I did. They are takers and nothing more. They live in fantasy and need your energy to fuel them. You become their supply and once they’ve had their fix, they discard you, without a moments notice or a heartfelt good bye, moving on as though you had never been a part of their life. That is the way of self-love and of a deep childhood pain, one we cannot understand. They are empty shells. They are not self-sufficient and need you to do for them what they cannot do for themselves.

Later when I got to know him, if one could even call it that here, no matter what I expressed to him, I always feared I would anger him, unlike anyone else I have ever known in my life. Was today a good day or a bad day, I wondered? He threw too many temper tantrums like a child when he doesn't get what he wants. And he knew my weaknesses, knew what I would do, what buttons to push. Each time I thought about what to say, I painstakingly went over the words in my head a hundred times making sure not to provoke or offend. How can that be healthy and normal? That is not The Work. That is me making excuses for his poor behaviour while he subtly convinces me I should use his baggage, lack of focus, reactivity and immaturity to work on myself. I ought to spit in his eye instead.

Master is never wrong. He is incapable of taking any responsibility for his actions. He'd rather blame man or YOU for his shortcomings. He wants to be teacher but lacks humility to walk behind student. How could I ever again put my trust in his hands after the mistakes he’s made and the shit he's pulled? I learned of his cruelty and of that underlying tendency. There is beauty in predictability and he is quite transparent to me now. Nothing he says will ever carry meaning for me again. This saddens me but I'll get over it now that the mind fucking has stopped.

I had wished it could be different but it simply cannot be. People like him do not and cannot change. Like some mathematical certainty, it’s impossible. When his world is threatened and he no longer feels safe, he will do anything to exert control and bring order back to his fantasy even if that means twisting the truth and hurting you. He will stave off depression to prevent the agonizing task of having to look at himself in the mirror. On the surface, he’ll have you believe that what he does is in the name of spiritual development, that he cares for you, but he’s a liar. He would crumble before himself if he saw who he really is because he is a wounded child who has never known love. He will forever have the emotional maturity of a three year old boy no matter how old he gets.

Do I miss him? I miss parts of him but now I’m not so sure those parts ever really existed. They were perhaps glimpses of essence but not enough to sustain a friendship, a relationship, a real exchange between equals. We were never equals which he ensured would always remain that way. He’s a magician who knows how to play tricks and needs high drama and endless crises to feel alive. Like a drug, when the effect subsides, he suffers from withdrawal. It will always be those closest to him who suffer and deteriorate and lose their sanity in the process. Make no mistake. I was losing my mind until I learned the truth. And like Dorian Gray, he'd have you believe there was something wrong with you...

He will never know of love. He doesn't know what he's missing or that he's even missing out on it. It's never been a part of his world. He cannot show you compassion or empathize in any way. He's a good actor instead. That is all. I swear to God, I looked for the real in his eyes, his gestures, his words, but nothing. It just wasn't there. I don't know how else to explain it. It wasn't there because he wasn't there. And if he didn't exist, whatever connection I thought we had or developed didn't exist either. He can dust himself off in no time and put the smooth veneer back on like everything is okay, while I on the other hand, continue to pick up the pieces of my spirituality and long for something that never was.

I wish for him to get help because I am convinced he needs it. But his ego, from which he operates and doesn't know it, which deceives him incessantly, won’t have it. And for these reasons, I had no choice but to walk away. It does not matter how I am perceived because he will always be the winner and I, the loser, the weak one, the insulted and offended, whatever he needs to tell himself to keep his false world in tact. But I know the truth--that I had something he valued, he wanted but just couldn't hold onto because he's unworthy. I pray that someday I'll never have to look back. I saw him for what he was--a manipulative and self serving individual who probably can’t help himself but that doesn’t mean I have to be a part of that world and neuroses anymore.