Chapter 1: Married to life

My journey leads me to the middle of nowhere, Lake Saimaa. Its rocky islands and pine trees are calling me to spend time in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. As night falls I head towards the sauna by the lake. Before I wrap myself in the warmth of the sauna, I pause to listen to the silence, and admire the starry sky.  Suddenly I’m filled with a wistful feeling, as though I have been abandoned, left to my fate. It would be easy to ignore this feeling, but instead I give it my full attention. I breathe it in and let the sensation expands until it fills me completely. Suddenly it feels very familiar! It is exactly the same feeling I had when I was about to give birth to our first born, equipped with only the slightest hint of what giving birth was, as I headed into uncharted territory. I left as an individual and came back home with a new life, a life over which I knew I would have no control.
 
Illusion of control
As an academic I had read and prepared myself thoroughly for what was to come. I had learned that rhythm was important. So, I had planned a precise schedule for this new life, a schedule that included eating, sleeping, and “socializing”. When we arrived home, the frost outside was breaking all records. I had asked for extra heaters for our home – after all, our little one had to stay warm! Our attempt to regulate the heating resulted in fuses burning out and a power cut in the entire building. But the baby wasn’t bothered, she just tended to her own rhythm and seemed to enjoy life. At night she was eager to stay awake and during the day she relished her sleep. It seemed like the little bundle, with willful persistence, already wanted to show her academic mother that feeling in charge of one’s life was an illusion!
There is in every child at every stage a new miracle. The first smile, the first rollover, the first words, the first steps. The spirit, the life-force, brings new things that have not been experienced before, on its own, no textbooks needed!
All three of my children are now out in the world, I have let them go – or have I?   I have relinquished my need to control their lives, or at least tried to do so. Do I now have the courage to let go and take a leap into the unknown? Is it me who is writing, or is life writing in me, through me? Am I alone or in oneness with all?
 
Labelling
A pause, resulting in an insight – a timeless moment of understanding. Have I ever come across anything except what my thinking mind creates? In labelling  something, the presence seems to disappear and I fall into the world of duality – a world of “me and others”.  Body and mind feel real in their own right, and everything else seems to be something other than myself. No surprise that from time to time I feel like an outsider, and I have a desire to withdraw into the sanctuary of my mind. However, by pulling back, I am creating separation and loneliness - a paradox, since that is precisely what I’m trying to avoid!  When I don’t give my mind the power to identify things I feel like falling into a void that refuses to be explored or discovered. But my impatient mind is eager to label the abstraction, because giving it a name helps it feel more familiar and identifiable at a conscious level.
Even when I name love I turn it into an object. There is someone who loves something or someone.  However, my heart tells me, that love is not something that is separate from myself. On the contrary, it seems like I am in fact deeply connected to love.
 
Breath: a pathway to presence
I take a moment to consciously breathe, as I listen to my breath. Suddenly, my husband appears next to me. I am so immersed in thoughts that I had almost forgotten about him, that he had been so kind as to accompany me to my writing retreat. He breathes, I breathe. We breathe together. We are one breath that seems to be currently manifesting in two bodies. Breath is constantly bringing in something new and removing something old. In the gap between the in-breath and the outbreath I sense a timeless presence that seems to enliven my body in time, as if it were carried towards the future.  I rest in the timeless energy of universal breath, free from past experience and any expectations for the future. In the here and now, there is total freedom to stand back and to be simultaneously fully engaged with life. Every moment of this union is a surprise and I have no knowledge of what will bring tomorrow.
 
Giving up achievement
In the shelter of the woods time seems to disappear. During the busy years 24 hours per day never seemed to be enough. I felt like I was fighting against time to manage everything I had to accomplish. But now moments seem to follow each other in a continuum, without beginning or end. This makes me wonder about the connection between time and the present moment. Being in a hurry makes me feel like a separate self, who is striving for things to happen. In presence, the sense of separation collapses, and things seem to arise naturally. Forgetting myself opens the doors to miracles.
 
In the heart of existence
It’s time to part, two weeks without my husband. One last embrace and he is already in the car heading to the city. His touch is still lingering, I send a message: “I love you!” I smile. I know very well that by loving him I’m saying that I love myself! How could it be otherwise; in the dance of life, there is no separation, life is married to itself.
Life energy is like an ocean giving birth to its own waves. One wave follows another – and eventually they merge back into the ocean. You too come and go like all life forms always do and always will. But in my heart, I feel like I know that there is something else: The core of my being that never disappears and never leaves me. What I essentially am, is not dependent on the finite mind and its thoughts, images, beliefs and perceptions.
 
Identifying
Being still, I notice how strongly I have identified with different roles: Finnish woman, child, mother, entrepreneur, researcher, writer, adventurer, guide, seeker, wise woman, and helper are all roles that come to mind. Each role seems to be tied to an identification to a body and an individual mind. But who or what does the identifying? Could it be that there is only an image or a thought of an individual entity which gives rise to the identification with body and mind? An image that is based on thoughts, beliefs and feelings. I have been absolutely convinced that I am an individual and an independent doer, thinker, and perceiver, but what if it isn’t true? What if the belief in a separate self itself is the veiling of love and prevents finding the truth of our true nature? 

I am a little ashamed to see how conditioned my mind has been in believing all these ideas about myself. In my egocentric world I haven’t even questioned their reality. But now it’s time to find clarity around what this false identification really is, to stop seeing myself as something that I’m not.  Not operating from my authentic nature is like wearing a pair of sunglasses with tinted lenses, enhancing my perception of who I think I am.

A field without boundaries
Now that I am left alone, I have the opportunity to remove my mask. To be quiet and present, and to eventually put my realizations into written and spoken form! When I pause and disentangle myself from the outside world, I can recognize my true nature as Being.  It feels very real, like something that is unchangeable and always there. It feels like I’m landing on a field with no boundaries that cannot be reached or discovered by the mind.
I am ready to surrender into the not-knowing. I welcome the emptiness I land in when I give up.  And suddenly, I feel like being illuminated by the peculiar and irrational knowledge that what I believe myself to be simply knows nothing at all! The unknown can only be known when the all-knowing mind sinks in the ocean of awareness. Studying and reading are useful tools and concepts, but they cannot help me find what I’m really looking for. But strangely, I feel that there is nevertheless “something” that knows and can be known.
 
There’s a gnawing sensation in my stomach, and for a moment I begin to question my intention. My mind finds all of this extraordinarily confusing, but I’d rather listen to the silence before speaking. And contrary to my habits I won’t even try to silence the unpleasant feelings. Whatever arises may arise. I accept and take it in. The adventure of my life is ready to begin!