It is not like this is the first time I find myself falling down into this endless pit of helplessness and despair. I have run out of options. It is not only that the money has stopped coming in even though I have done my best to advertise and market myself.
I have stepped outside of my comfort zone. I have done the things I promised to do faithfully. I have talked with a lot of people, I have connected, and yet, no matter how much they like what I offer: no clients, no customers and my financial supply steadily dwindles. I thought I had cleared this financial block before. I have, since 1995, consciously worked with so many powerful tools to purify myself from victim-hood and poverty consciousness and still, it is there and I had apparently not reached the bottom of the bottomless pit.
Slowly falling backwards, that old friend of despair and fear in my heart, faithfully with me on yet another journey down, down, down… Looking up at that faint light far in the distance. A sliver of light that is only getting smaller as I fall deeper into the endless darkness of the Abyss. I am not afraid of the fall, no, it is more the voiceless desperation of never, ever getting there.
Through my tears I feel. I feel the lump of sadness in my heart. The shame, the guilt, about having to ask for money, especially from my mother whom I help a lot. But I still feel I should be able to support her, at least support myself. I do good things. I give a lot. I am of great service to this farm, to my family and the community, but, it is not enough. Yes, I have been super busy with studying and reading while at the same time taking care of the farm, but my own business and finances have suffered. Something is not working. I have to change. Grow.
Reading my DMP feels like a cruel joke. I cannot do it without crying and feeling sorry for myself in this pitiful state. But I continue to read through my tears. Stubborn as hell, this one, and I always keep my promises.
The pain in my heart, a black rock of self deprecation and fear. I feel into it. I know it so well. I have met it a thousand times before and accepted it, overcome it, loved it, substituted it, asked it questions, learned from it, freed myself from it, conquered it, surrendered to it and yet. It is back – and with a vengeance.
And so, I take a deep breath, I surrender again. I meet that pain, head on again, this very dark night in November. It keeps me awake anyway and perhaps I can find yet another way?
I breath in, deeply, slowly, and then I re-member. Yes, I can OBSERVE this one who is suffering, this one who believes she is beyond help and falling into that ominous, black nothingness.
And so I take another deep breath and I ask God, “What do you want me to know and understand from all this? Please tell me.”
I get a vision. An old useless ass has collapsed on the road under the weight of a huge burden. Finally his skinny and fragile little legs cannot do it anymore. The ass has given up. He is ready to take his last breath and die.
The owner of the old donkey, his master, angry and muttering, unloads all the huge bags the donkey has carried for so long. The last load he will ever carry. Freed from the burden the master decides to throw that old, useless and lifeless ass into a dried out well to bury him.
“I am that ass”, I think to myself, “I am that old donkey and I am now falling into that well.The pit that will be my grave”. In slow motion I fall, it seems like I never get to the bottom. I can hear the laughters and the cruel nasty words from the people up there in the light. “That ugly old donkey, so stupid, so useless, so dirty and stubborn. “Good for nothing that old ass” my master’s hard voice. He is not even sad to lose me, I have worked so hard for him. “I am happy I got rid of him”, he continues, “he has only caused me trouble anyways, I have fed him and kept him safe, look at this useless animal now. Good for nothing”. “Can I hear any sadness in his voice”, I ask myself, “does he miss me even a little?”, but I only hear his cruel laughter. My heart breaks into pieces.
And so the master and his men start throwing dirt down the well to bury me. They think I am already dead, but no… I am not. The loads of dirt and rocks falling onto my frail body actually makes it stir. It makes me feel something else than that black rock inside of my heart. More and more dirt falls down on top of me. I slowly open my eyes and I lift my head. I realize that I can move and slowly I start to shake the dirt and rocks off my body. I carefully move my legs. I am not dead and to my surprise, I am not even tired anymore.
The men up above see me moving and they laugh even more. The master asks them all the work faster to get my burial over and done with. As more and more dirt falls down in the well I begin to stand up. I have solid ground under my hooves. My legs carry me and I start to climb up on top of the dirt and the rocks. “I am not going to give up. I am definitely not going to let them bury me, not this time. I am a donkey and donkeys never give up. ”
“I will climb on those hurtful words and their laughter”, I think to myself. And so, I climb on top of the mockery, their nasty, scornful attacks and their attempts to kill me. And as they fill up the well, they help me rise from the bottom and I get stronger. For a long time they continue to shovel dirt. I shake it off and rise, and then, I look up and I see their surprised faces as they realize what is happening. All of them, up there in the light, sweating from the hard work of trying to bury me, but instead, they are saving me. They all continue throwing dirt down the well, now even faster. They are not laughing anymore. They all work in silence and with determination as I continue to rise. Up, up, up.
Finally I climb out of the well on my own legs. I shake the dirt off my body and I just stand there among them. They gather closer and even help me get the last dirt off of my body. One of them hugs me and gives me some water to drink. Everybody’s silent. The master, I think, has a smile on his face. He scratches his head, “I’ll be darned, you didn’t want to die, did you, you old ass”, he pauses, “come to think of it, you have actually given me a good lesson this day. I can see that you are old and you have, indeed, served me well. For the rest of your days you will not have to work anymore. I will take care of you and you will be free to live your life as you wish. Thank you for everything you have done for me. You have been, and you are, a good donkey.”
Everyone is still silent, kind of shocked at the master’s words. They are all looking at me. Then the master bursts out in a heartfelt laughter, “it has been a long day, men, you have all worked hard. Let us all go home to eat and drink. It is all on me”, he looks very happy and continues, “Thank you all for the help with resurrecting this old donkey of mine. I had no idea he was so smart and strong and that I love him so much”.
I had never seen him like this. It was like he was a different man. His team of workers looked different too. Relaxed and smiling, like there was a light in their eyes. One by one they started laughing too, they hugged each other and they hugged me. Even the master came up to me to pet me, and even though it was a bit rough, I could feel the love and warmth from his hands through my skin.
I must admit I am a little confused. Did I die down there in the pit? Have I entered donkey heaven?
Does it even matter? I am no longer in the pit and it wasn’t even hard to get out of it even though it was painful.
I surrendered, I asked God for help and help came. In the most unexpected way. I learned to look at the circumstances from a different perspective and get into action.
I am going to rest now, with a tiny little smiling flower growing in my heart.
Tomorrow is a new day, with another 86 400 in my account.
I use them wisely, constructively and harmoniously,