Common Ground: The Kinship of Metaphysicians

A syncretic approach to esoteric teachings - the golden threads that connect Pagans, Yogis, Rosicrucians and Masons.

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REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS CONFUSED

Posted by on in Studies Blogs

As I sit down to write this, it's the eleventh of November, 2020 – so far the worst time in the worldwide Corona virus pandemic. If that weren't enough to worry about, for the past month and a half my 75 year-old wife has been in two rehab centers where they're trying to strengthen her legs and get her back onto her feet, interspersed with transports to two different hospitals, due to a bowel blockage and vomiting blood. Somehow in spite of all these transfers and multiple contacts, we have both managed to remain Covid-free so far. The doctors and nurses and other medical personnel here in Arizona have been really wonderful in their adherence to all the PPE (personal protection equipment) rules.

 

I think I'm maintaining my sanity as well as anyone can at this time – at least when I'm awake. When I fall asleep I get immersed in these dreams which draw from every major period of my life, with no regard whatsoever for the niceties of linear time. Often I'm trying to help my Mom set out food for a dozen guests who dropped in unexpectedly, logically making me about 16 years old – but then I start to bait one of the more egotistical men whom I can't stand, with “Let's see what kind of shape your fancy health club has gotten you into. C'mon, put your money where your mouth is. Get down onto the mat with me, and let's see who can really do Yoga asanas. By the way – I'm 73.”

 

But then the house turns out to actually be the last one Nora and I owned together, where both of our beloved dogs died before we lost our home to a predatory real estate agent in the mortgage crisis of 2008. Even though we don't own it anymore, I keep going back there in my dreams in case Augie and Muffin decide to come back into the backyard some night, and wonder where we are.

 

No - I have never accepted that my mother had to die at age 59, even though it was forty years ago. Neither have I accepted that Augie and Muffin had to die also. Nobody likes that dogs don't live as long as humans.

 

Okay, I'll admit it. Seen with the calmness of demeanor and clarity of mind which I always strive to embody - I am probably not really that sane after all. It takes very little to turn me into – how do they put it? A hot mess.

 

And, of course, the biggest non-acceptance of all, is the horrific recognition that my wife's conscious, waking mind is every bit as confused as my dreaming mind! And there is absolutely nothing I can do to change it or help her with it, aside from just being there and rubbing her feet or holding her hand. I was able to imagine a lot of terrible things when I was a young actor, but I never imagined the reality of dementia. Oh, I could play it; young peoples' enthusiasm and energy make them equal to almost any artistic or athletic endeavor. But I could not really imagine it.

 

And yet, now that I've painfully arrived at this point in my healing initiation, or whatever this is, perhaps the statement I made in my second paragraph is true after all: Perhaps I really am maintaining my sanity as well as anyone can at this time! We are all dealing with fear and uncertainty, each one of us in our own unique way, and the uncertainty of the present is bound to bring forth regrets from our past. It seems to be a set; they go together.

 

Yes, I taught Yoga for 37 years. Yes, I meditate. (I'd be a lot more dysfunctional if I didn't!) Yes, I have realized (from time to time) the Buddhist and Advaita Vedanta teaching that I am pure Bliss Consciousness and that all this will be, as Shakespeare says, “no more yielding than a dream.” And yet, I must be honest or else I'd be a hypocrite: While I am on this ride, it is very convincing. The Special Effects team has done an Oscar-worthy job with this bit of Virtual Reality.

 

Consciousness came into this Dimension because it wanted some experiences. Sometimes it gets more than it bargained for.

 

 

 

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A student of esoteric traditions since the age of 16, Ted Czukor (Theo the Green) taught Yoga for 37 years until retiring in 2013. For 26 years he was adjunct faculty for the Maricopa, AZ Community Colleges, teaching Gentle Yoga and Meditation & Wellness. Raised in the Methodist Church but drawn to Rosicrucianism, Hinduism and Buddhist philosophy, he is a devotee of the Goddess in all Her forms. Ted has been a Shakespearean actor, a Masonic ritualist and an Interfaith wedding officiant. He is the author of several books, none of which made any money and two of which are available as .pdf files. He lives with his wife Ravyn-Morgayne in Sun City, Arizona. Their shared dream is to someday relocate to Glastonbury, England. theoczukor@cox.net.

Comments

  • Jamie
    Jamie Friday, 13 November 2020

    Mr. Czukor,

    I'm sorry about your wife's medical issues. Prayers and offerings to Apollo and Asklepios, for comfort and healing to you and yours.

    Your journey reminds me of the allegory of Plato's cave. The wisdom we attain helps us to see the cave for what it is, and walk towards the exit. Once outside, we can see the true spiritual sun for the first time and bask in the light of the Goddesses and Gods.

    That's when sages like yourself come back down into the cave, and try to tell us the truth and show the way.

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