The Medicine of Great Humbling

Dec 31, 2020 | Blog, Featured Read

Dearest Ones,

As this powerful year comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on the vital role humbling has played historically, in the unfolding of my life, and in the evolving heart of our world.

Yes, it has been a year of Great Humbling.

And yet, humbling at its finest always serves as an invitation to come into right relationship, don’t you think?

As the arrogance of the mind is humbled, the mind bows down and curls up at the altar of the heart. Mental humbling invites the mind to stop, invoking right relationship with the very nature of thought.

When we are humbled by our mistakes and shortcomings, by the ways we can be total assholes, this invites us to learn the art of apology, the skills of repair, the grace of forgiveness.

When we are humbled by our own self-betrayal, this invites us to realize a deeper level of integrity; the capacity to discern true from untrue, and how to make a self-respecting choice.

Humbling can feel extremely uncomfortable, difficult, even tragic at times. Death of a loved one, loss of a marriage, the burning down of a home or a town or a state, loss of health, loss of work and income and financial security, the surrendering of any intimate attachment—all so powerfully humbling.

And yet, when we are humbled by the ruthlessness of loss, this invites us to realize—deep in the soul of our bones—what can’t be lost; what can only be ever-more-fully found.

Spiritual humbling, that which comes in the darkest nights of the soul, annihilates our faith so we might discover something even truer: a deeper surrender, a fuller leaning in, a chance to be swallowed by the truth of oneself.

When meningitis came knocking at the door of my 18-month old self, my entire experience of aliveness was dismantled. My essential trust in life as a safe and benevolent place was vitally injured. The neurological trauma in my nervous system unfolded simultaneously to the way this traumatized my family. My sense of home within my body, my family and our world became at once fractured and hobbled, and in this I was profoundly humbled.

And yet this humbling invited me, over time, to discover right relationship with my own aliveness, with incarnation, with pain, with disability, with embodiment, with empathy, compassion and self-love.

Devastation became the gateway to true homecoming.

Isn’t it useful to imagine that’s precisely what we’re up to right now, as a species?

Fumbling our humbled way towards right relationship with one another, with our planet, with our humanity, with our resources, with global health and collective wealth, with a possibility of universal honesty, empathy, intelligence and integrity?

If we’re going to tell a story about these tumultuous times, my loves, let’s tell a healing story. Not a bypassing story, or an avoidant denial story, or a new-age fantasy story, or a blaming, divisive, finger-pointing story, or a sensationalizing, drama-fueling story, or a hopeless despair story.

But rather, let’s tell a medicine story. Let’s tell a story infused with our prayers and vulnerable desires for what we know this life, at its heart, already is—and for what it truly wants to be.

Medicine stories are shaped by the lens through which we see our lives, by our willingness to alchemize our wounds and challenges into the very medicine we are needing our lives to be.

What comes first—the story of medicine, or the realization of medicine? Perhaps they take turns, weaving in and out, in some kind of powerfully braided tapestry of healing.

I’ll tell you, for me this past year has been a humbling descent into feeling fully lost to the world, without any knowable identity as a healer, or shaman, or teacher or writer. Muted, without much of anything to say, or to write, or to teach, or to give. A humbling of my voice.

In the wake of my failure to publish a book I had poured my heart and soul into, I needed to burn through layers of multi-generational disappointment and grief, worthlessness and shame; layers of misidentification with the lie; layers of somebody still striving to be somebody in this world, still seeking some kind of external validation of my value.

I have felt the trustworthiness of this descent, this complete emptying out, while also squirming at times in the aching absence of my muse, and an anxious loss of my direction, in knowing that I am at my best when my heart and intellect and channel are being put to good use.

And yet it seems in these times so many of us have had to burn in the discomfort of deconstruction, uncertainty and unknowing; in the destabilizing loss of a certain life trajectory.

It seems to be a mysterious part of the collective portal and passage many of us have needed to navigate.

Sometimes the personal humbling and the collective humbling are one and the same. Together, we have been brought to our knees.

Here, in our startling interdependence and interwovenness, we are creating a medicine story for these times.

Last spring when we first went into lockdown in North America, I wrote: Sometimes life kicks us to the ground, so that we learn how to pray. So that we learn the art of asking for help. So that we can’t escape the reality of how fleeting these precious lives are. So that we stop scrambling in avoidance of death and loss and living, and learn to cherish it all.

Because through all this burning in collective uncertainty, all this emptying out of mis-identities, it’s the deepening of our prayer, the vigilance of my own self-love, the cherishing of being alive together, and the shining truth of stillness that have been my saving grace.

How available clarity is here, in any given moment, in this pause, in this treasure trove of stillness, this which is untouched by all past and all future.

How golden, this simple space. How sane. Nothing to be done, and no one to be. How sublimely sobering.

This holy still-point seems to be a wise place from which to complete, and then to begin again, the next cycle around the sun.

Blessing you and everyone you love with happiness and health and wellness in all ways. May all beings be free. May all beings come home to the truth of love. Happy new year.

I love you! ~*~ Jesua

Inspired Art by the extraordinary Autumn Skye

Facebook Comments

More Blog Posts

Praising Angels

One of the many gifts that came from my early childhood intimacy with traumatizing illness, was the way in which it opened my psychic centers to be able to “see” and “hear” energetic realities that remain elusive for most. While it took me a couple of decades to work...

Stewarding a New Way

As I witness all this outrageous trauma playing out on the global stage between man and woman, one of the most poignant components it illuminates for me is the power we hold in how we choose to steward our daughters and sons in these times. What is our part to play in...

Smoky Grateful Boredom Breakthroughs

My son Ezra and I had a glorious breakthrough about boredom a few days ago, and I’m inspired to share it with you, in case it just might be contagious. (And no, it wasn’t about boredom breeding creativity or genius or whatever it was someone wise once said, though I’m...

A Year of Leaning In

A couple of weeks ago Orionne and I celebrated our one year anniversary! What a meaningful threshold for us to cross. And what a profound year of leaning in it has been. We met (re-met) one year ago in July and immediately bowed in to a most extraordinary love. We...

“Free of Mom”~ Attachment & Surrender

The other morning I was sitting at my desk writing, when suddenly my son Ezra was beside me, tapping me on the shoulder in his fluffy red bathrobe. As I turned to greet his morning brightness, he surprised me by tumbling completely into my arms, so I had to move fast...

“But either way, isn’t Love always the answer?”

“But either way, isn’t Love always the answer?”

“But any way you look at it, isn’t Love always the answer?” That’s what my beloved partner said to me yesterday with fierce truth pouring from moist eyes, devotedly calling me back, in a moment when defense had gotten the better of me, to the common ground of our...

Graduation from a Life Chapter; The Endless Changing of Form

I’ve got some big news to share~ about a large life change in the works for my sweet family. One night, about 6 weeks ago, as I closed my eyes to go to sleep, I was suddenly struck with an unexpected lightning bolt of revelation. It went something like this: “And Now You will Move With The Children Back To Ashland.” It truly felt more like an announcement from my soul, than any kind of choice I was being offered to contemplate. I was shocked, confused, and somewhat triggered. I […]

Being Single~ Yearning, Prayer, Surrender and Fulfillment I’m inspired to tell you a story from a recent bedtime conversation I had with my son, on the topic of being single, and the prayer for partnership. It’s a tender topic to personally speak and write about, but one that so many of us share in common. And so I humbly offer my voice to the collective conversation.I’ve been contemplating my own single womanhood and single motherhood a lot lately, in a particularly focused way. It’s interesting to consider the stigm […]

Nurturing Self-Love as Healthy Self-Image~ A Clothes-Shopping Story

Due to the vulnerable nature of this writing, this piece is published with explicit permission and blessings from my brave and generous daughter Arayla, who after reading it shared her hope that our story might serve in some small way~ especially other mothers and daughters, in navigating the steep challenge of healthy self- image and radical self-love in our culture. One of my most treasured delights as the mother of my beloved daughter Arayla, (newly 12 years old,) is the incredibly swee […]

Our World, Our Mirror~ Rupture, Projection, Responsibility & Repair

Our World, Our Mirror~ Rupture, Projection, Responsibility & Repair

It's difficult to know what to say in these times, but I'll give it a try.  While this horrifying drama is playing out on the world stage, I’m finding it useful to notice how this translates in my own privileged life. For it to get this crazy on the outer stage of our...