Spiritual Awakening & Patience

In A Path With Heart, Jack Koenfield, writes about the Eight Qualities of Mature Spirituality Of the eight patience stands out as the most most difficult to achieve in my quest for a spiritual awakening.

Early on in recovery I was told by the group. "Be patient, the promise of a spiritual awakening is based on a result of certain steps, its a journey, a process, you'll get it, it takes time. Don't expect it to happen by a simple palm slap on the forehead in a evangelical moment."

They went on. "Sorry there are no short cuts. You're not special. You will have to take all the necessary Steps to get there. The awakening will enfold without you being fully conscious of it. Others will see it in you before you become aware of it. Besides if you got it with the snap of your fingers you wouldn't appreciate it."

That was all well and good but I wanted to feel good and experience peace and relief as a constant in my life not just for a few moments at a time. I wanted it right now and to be there whenever I wanted it. I wanted to be able to "think" it into my life, not have it dependent on any "action" on my part.

Not getting my childish way I had to begin to get in touch with all my shortcomings and defects of character. Then commit to giving them up; to unlearn the old ways by learning (practicing) the new ways. I was told that the only way to enter into a new way of life was to face the consequences and secret underlying issues of my old life.

It would "take what it takes" or more specifically in "God's good time, not mine." In my case the journey took the better part of five years. One great thing is that once on the path the "steps" are paved with spiritual experiences.

The following story from the play Zorba the Greek, Zorba tells of his own lesson in patience and I believe it to be a fitting metaphor for patience in recovery.

I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited awhile but it was too long appearing and I was impatient.

I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster than life. The case opened. the butterfly slowly crawling out, and I shall never forget my horror when I say how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them.

Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding of the wings needed to be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand.

JF