Getting real: Abigail Maxwell takes care of her self

‘I go to worship to face reality, without illusions or masks.’

Have you a light within, which shines from you, and speaks and acts through you? Does something else get in the way?

My false self is afraid of the light, and seeks to control it. She seeks safety in conformity and habit. If she feels the right feelings and holds the right beliefs, she will fit in. So social media echo chambers and the right newspaper are comforting. Clicked ‘Likes’ feel almost like human companionship.

The true self seems eldritch and frightening. She leads me by the hand and takes me where I do not want to go. The false self suppresses feelings and perceptions I find uncomfortable. Living from true self means facing reality.

The true self cares for the false self. The false self has no energy or motivation. The false self is frozen in fear, shame, resentment, trauma, anger and deep sadness I have been unable to face. Carrying it gets harder. It suppresses joy. It gets more wearisome, but living from the true self is terrifying.

The false self had seemed mere reality. I do not at first know my blind spots, because what I see between them seems to be all there is.

I go to worship to face reality, without illusions or masks. There, the distractions of the world are less oppressive. I get to know the light within, the true self. I begin to see the false self for what it is.

I was lying in bed. I could only get up if the true self chose to. She would no longer do that at the command of the false self. So I was afraid of getting up. It would mean living from the true self.

Jesus said, ‘My yoke is easy, and my burden is light’. Under the burden of the false self I was lying supine. All I could do was surrender to the light. It was like a veil torn in two. It took all my courage, then the world seemed alive. I went to shower, more present to the water on my skin. Any further action had to come from the light, from free choice, not from the commands, habit, or convention of the false self.

I was not ruminating about past or future. The burden of false self fears was quietly melting. It is not wholly gone. As it flows, I feel the old, undigested feelings, which become the living water of Jeremiah and John.

So much comes from habit, including how I am with other people. Humankind cannot bear very much reality. I project my fears onto others, thinking they will give no space for this depth of seriousness or delight. If getting out of bed is hard, going out the front door may be harder.

I do not want to live from the true self for achievement’s sake. On the path, only one step is visible, not a destination. I can see what I must do now, for there is only now.

It is good to care for, rather than despise, myself. I never felt good enough; now the judgment feels meaningless.

I am one human being. In trauma I compartmentalised, and the fear and hurt my false self kept unconscious are mine. As I accept and heal that hurt, I reveal my light.

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