Exerpts from Sex, Love And The Search For Meaning:


One evening about thirty of his female students were meeting with Andrew, when he said to us : If you really let in that a man has liberated you, it can take you all the way.

 Walking out into the frosty spring night after the meeting, his words circled in ever widening spirals in my consciousness. I didn’t particularly follow any line of thought, I was just glued to the words, sensing their depth and potency and I kept bringing them back, whenever my mind began to wander. There was a lot to this one sentence. Andrew was a man – something I never considered to be of particular importance, always just taking it for granted. And it was true – he had shown me freedom – he did liberate me,  by taking me to a place, or state of consciousness, and more than once, where there was no doubt left about who I truly was, and why I was here, why I was alive. Even though I was not always embodying these insights and revelations,  it was still him who had given me the truth. I had seen and all my experience and all my actions would be measured against that.

So yes, a man had set me free. A man had set me free. A man had set me free.

 Slowly, as I kept thinking this, all through the night, waking up again and again, deep inside I became aware of a tension. So subtle and seemingly natural, that I had never perceived, let alone questioned it before: it was the tension of holding onto difference, the self-conscious and profound insistence on being a WOMAN, other, different. This wasn’t really a mental process, I was seeing, into my self, and the clearer I saw, the faster this holding on began to drop away. It was like a switch was flipped in my brain, and the fundamental experience I had when I first met Andrew came alive again: the recognition of first there being no difference between us whatsoever and second, the fundamentally false assumption that any of us could ever be anything as narrowly defined as what the word woman stood for swept me off my feet, out of control, and into my real self.

In this contemplation, I dropped as if into a different universe – there was only trust, and a love so sweet, it was painful. All the intense insistence of being different, and most of all, of fundamentally being weak, and being a victim was revealed as a misguided stance towards life that I was insisting on – for the simple reason that there was a lot I got out of it. I wasn’t a victim, I had never been. I had unconsciously chosen to believe so, in order to be able to stay in control, in order to know who I was. All this kept flashing before me, in the discovery of that part of the self, that has always known. Insight followed upon liberating insight, releasing a  confidence, passion, fearlessness and joy that was overwhelming. There were no limits to be found in any direction, no boundaries to this newly discovered identity. The word ‚woman’ sounded painfully claustrophobic, inappropriate and almost ridiculous in its inability to describe this different self-sense.

For days I could not think of anything else.

And here is another, more elaborate and contextualized account of this remarkable awakening.


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