Error message

  • Deprecated function: array_key_exists(): Using array_key_exists() on objects is deprecated. Use isset() or property_exists() instead in Drupal\Core\Controller\ArgumentResolver\RawParameterValueResolver->supports() (line 18 of core/lib/Drupal/Core/Controller/ArgumentResolver/RawParameterValueResolver.php).
  • Deprecated function: array_key_exists(): Using array_key_exists() on objects is deprecated. Use isset() or property_exists() instead in Drupal\Core\Controller\ArgumentResolver\RawParameterValueResolver->supports() (line 18 of core/lib/Drupal/Core/Controller/ArgumentResolver/RawParameterValueResolver.php).
7 Apr 2019

Broken Hallelujah

Broken Hallelujah

Colm Burgoyne
7 Apr 2019, a topic

Broken Hallelujah

A tight, controlling anger, with a secretive, yet rapidly responsive mind in defence of its vulnerability, is the thread that my inner looking has been directing me towards much of the day.

I take my time, as I know from experience that rushing inquiry leaves me open to bypassing the more subtle signposts attempting to direct my path into the deeper chambers of discovery.

As I dive deeper, the words come, “I’m not doing it right mum” - a core deficiency of mine - uncovering an agonising pain of loneliness which reaches right back to the loss of my mother many years ago. This recognition, accompanied by a subtle astonishment, comes mixed with a verbalised really? The body responds with yes really, the floods of tears and tightness releasing within my gut being the affirmation of that. The firmly sealed flesh of my heart area starts to loosen a little, as my awareness begins to expand towards other parts of the body that feel tethered to the contraction in the heart, like the bottom of my spine and the muscles in my head. I feel and I notice as images appear from the root of my spine. My awareness however, begins to shift again to a shame attached to the heart area and after giving it a little time to be acknowledged, I ask “is there anything the shame is asking of me?” The word “intimacy” whispers instinctively. Not intimacy from something external, but an intuitive sense of an intimate togetherness with myself.

Many times in the past I have made an enemy of shame, innocently misdiagnosing it as something to be kept locked away from prying eyes, not recognising the wisdom underneath. With inquiry, I get to see both sides of shame's coin. On one level it has served as a protection in a loving way against any perceived harm. Yet, if I turn the coin over, I see how rapidly the freedom of my expression can become enslaved by shame, if I would continue to turn away from facing it. In seeing this, my brokenness turns out to be a signpost that when followed with enough gentle investigation and patience, a soft Hallelujah appears.