Odysseus survived mythical monsters as he floated through treacherous waters during his exile. Prometheus endured his suffering, chained to a rock, as punishment for enlightening humanity with the gift of fire.  Job moved from patience to frustration to resentment and then triumph as he endured the suffering of physical, emotional and economic disasters. Men and women know how to suffer. Stories ancient and modern provide vivid pictures as references. Are we as adept at facing Spirit, feeling the warm breath of Spirit’s presence in the midst of troubles? Do we get caught up in the shadows, dancing with the stories of our demise, our death? Do we shadowbox with disaster in preparation for our ultimate ruin?

Worries and fears are like Odysseus’ monsters, challenging us to face them and see that they are dangerous only in our unquestioned belief in them.  Prometheus not only endures his suffering, he calls for witnesses. Prometheus, comforted by seeing that others agree that he has been wronged, accepts his suffering.  Spirit is a constant witness, dwelling inside us, urging us to face ourselves and survive. When we face ourselves and discover our true power, we come out of the shadows, strong and humble and compassionate.

When we face our fears and worries, like Job we survive the onslaught of challenges in our life, and discover that we are stronger and more alive than we at first thought. We are powerful expressions of Spirit. We have boundless energy to survive our fears… if we let go of preparing for the worst, shadowboxing with our imagination.

Life is full of choices. We’ve heard that truth many times. When we choose to trust in our relationship with Spirit, we open ourselves to more  than a solid belief in All-That-Is. Belief keeps us locked in our thoughts and rituals, keeping Spirit in a place outside ourselves. Spirit is uncontainable, limitless energy, that must be experienced internally.

We suffer because we depend on our beliefs alone to sustain us through troubles. When we open our hearts to Spirit, we allow Love to release us from our self-imposed burdens, and realize that worries and fears cannot withstand the peaceful love of Spirit.  Only then can we come out of the shadows and into the light of Truth.

One of my favorite ancient writers is Rumi. He has written, “Appear as you are. Be as you appear.” When I read this wise statement, I reflected on the power of appearances, and that sometimes how we appear belies the truth of who we are. Our society has set up certain standards that we choose to buy into. One standard is based on what others perceive as beautiful. We could blame the advertising industry or expectations we think are imposed on us, but we always have a choice about what we believe or agree to support.

One such agreement has to do with hair. Several years ago I was diagnosed with Lupus, a strange and erratic disease that attacks the body with surprising randomness. My hair was one of the first casualties. Not vanity but professional image and expectations have been my excuse for wearing wigs. At first there was simple shame at what I considered an odd appearance. I decided that shame made me feel special in a way that I did not deserve. After all, many men and women have no hair.  Loved ones and friends were generous in providing their unsolicited feedback about how I looked or when I was in grave error in my choice of styles.  The hair was too long or I needed bangs or it was too short, or the color was just right or not OK. The psychological tyranny of accommodating the desires of others consumed far more time than necessary.  Hafiz, another ancient mystic writes, “Love sometimes wants to do us a favor; hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.”  I decided to love myself. Bam!   I decided to have fun with wigs, changing often to make wearing them a kind of capricious game. Then, true to the tyranny of choices based on what others think is appropriate, I received feedback from friends and family members about my choice of hair styles. Now the web was beginning to tighten, as the game of winning approval became confusing and unwinnable. What I tried to make an infinite game of fun with choices of hairstyles, became a finite game of wins and losses.

I have confirmation of the belief that my authentic self has nothing to do with how I look, or what I say or do. My authentic self lies deep within the body I carry around from place to place. I am so much more than how I appear to others. If others are unable, unwilling or ill-prepared to see me as who I am, that has no affect on my core being.  Rumi instructs us once again. ” I am not this hair. I am not this skin. I am the soul that lives within.”  A soul needs no hair and neither do I.