Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Intention: Through the Heart of God, part III: intimacy

The secret of intention begins, oddly enough, with an intimacy.

I wish to tend inwardly; to intend. But this is in fact a very difficult thing, because I am filled with inner things—filth, as it might be called in esoteric Christianity—that are corrupted and unworthy. I am both ashamed of them and I fear them.

These filths take on the aspects of many different betrayals, perversions and so on but at their root is always a failure to choose love and to turn towards God. Those are, to be sure, larger questions: but they always begin with a fear of myself and what I am, and a fear of being close to myself and loving myself.

I recall that my original group leader Henry brown once said that we remember the adage to love one another quite readily; yet we don't remember the adage to love ourselves. We fear inner intimacy with ourself; and of course ultimately this translates into a fear of intimacy with others. Yet it's at home, at the root of the question of intimacy, that the problem begins; and this is precisely where I don't like to go.

Intimacy is tied together in a neat little package with my own nothingness. There's a paradox there... I am nothing... yet there is also a call, within, to honor myself within the limits of that nothingness. A willingness towards intimacy—an inwardness, an intention— is the seed of that appreciation and that honor.

Without bringing egoistic concerns into the matter, one can see that because I am part of God, when I am intimate with myself and I honor myself, in some small part—perhaps even in the greater part—I honor God; even in my nothingness, I honor the Lord. There is an emotional axis on which this question turns that has a sacred quality; it is in the fineness, the detail, of this emotional experience that I may first encounter the Presence of the Lord. Yet in order to encounter that detail I am obliged to engage in this intimacy, this inner relationship with myself, in which I not only see myself as I am but forgive myself for it.

Ah, this is so difficult! My fear leads me away from this intimacy; I don't want to be what I am and I don't want to see what I am. If I wish to do so, I have to suffer what I am. So my intention dies a-birthing; I go outward, simply because to go inward seems so dangerous.



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