Walking into the Unknown
the blessing and the curse
As most readers are undoubtedly aware, I recently submitted a pro se Petition for Habeas Corpus in the Second Judicial District Court in New Mexico. The petition collaterally emerged from finally having received a complete copy of the trial transcripts after more than two decades of resistance and obfuscation from various attorneys, court clerks and reporters. Nevertheless, my persistence and efforts hit pay-dirt in January, when digital copies were finally made available. Some of you will undoubtedly take the time to digest the legal brief, while most will skim or otherwise delete it; and, I totally understand; after all, it is a lot of information and legalese to process. But, my mention now of the legal brief is only to point out that regardless of the outcome of this appeal, the process and experience of having created this petition has afforded me with something far more valuable than freedom or justice: it has given me a glimpse of that indomitable something that resides within every one of us.
There is a theory that some spiritualists say is a proven fact, that when someone infuses the inherent energy and power of their spirits (or life force, daemon, or soul) into a specific endeavor or task the Universe itself conspires in favor of that expended effort. Some religious individuals believe that "God only helps those who help themselves," which is certainly an idea I can get behind. And perhaps what it comes down to is our otherwise limited ability to explain, through any rational means, the overarching wisdom and power that is omnipresent in our lives.
What is it?
Don't worry, I'm not going to answer existential questions in a few thousands words or less. But perhaps even without answering the question there is a way to acknowledge and marvel over the experience of having this power intervene in our lives. I feel fortunate to have experienced this presence in a handful of occasions; and yet, in all those instances it was always in moments of herculean efforts towards achieving something that required a total commitment of body, mind and spirit. An observation suggesting that without extreme efforts where the known limitations are pushed or otherwise reinvented, the Power or Presence is not perceivable through anything more than faith—i.e., belief without proof. But, progression from a state of faith to a state of gnosis (knowledge) is possible once our actions and efforts are coupled to our devotion of cause—the mysterious Presence intervenes and what may have once been a belief based on faith suddenly becomes a belief based on knowledge.
In a state of knowledge (or gnosis)—as opposed to a state of faith—the foundation upon which I walk solidifies with every additional step. Moreover, from a solid foundation I'm able to explore, know and altogether better appreciate my role in the melodrama of life. Religions have undoubtedly attempted to make this exploratory process for the rest of us, and have even taken some valiant steps towards an understanding of what it is that life asks from humanity as a whole. Where religion falls short, however, is that it attempts to answer questions through a universal framework of adherence to rules, rites and laws that, when applied to individual lives, often clash with the foundational evidences of our lived experiences. Which inevitably leads us to a difficult choice: to either accept the "truth" of someone else's written doctrine; or, follow the truth revealed to us through our own lived experiences into the unknown.
The dichotomy of this choice is as crucial as it is confounding. Mostly because it's not as simple as making a preferential call between tap or bottled: it's a dilemma of choosing between the comforts, community and protection of a well provisioned camp in the middle of the Sahara; or choosing to cross the desert with neither provision or community, depending entirely on one's personal knowledge, desire for truth, willingness to fail, and ultimately, the idea that Truth will only reveal itself to those who are willing to leave the well provisioned camp behind. But, if we ask ourselves from where does the idea originate that if we leave our comfortable oasis behind and venture out into the desert that Truth and Knowledge will reveal themselves, the answer proves to be just as elusive as the question.
What eventually emerged from this decades long episode of anxiety, depression, frustration, disappointment, and hope was a self-taught knack for resilience in the face of the seemingly impossible, coupled with what can only be described as acceptance and peace. What was problematic to my younger life was that there always something calling to me from just outside the periphery of perception that I struggled with explaining even to myself. It's difficult to impart what it was or wasn't, but in an effort to do so, what I can say, is that, it was as if my prior life was the aforementioned oasis: there was a universal framework of rules, rites and laws that, even though I belonged to the secular society, I was expected to defend and otherwise uphold. I graduated from college, pursued a career and marriage, purchased a home, and then proceeded to perform as expected: earn, spend: earn more, spend more; and ultimately, stay distracted through any number of acceptable pursuits and vices—e.g., politics, family, friends, entertainment, ambition, or any number of approved hobbies. And yet, the more I performed as expected, the more frequently I kept finding myself on the edge of the oasis starring out at the barren desert, asking myself, did you hear that? Followed by another question: what's out there?
The answer from within was always the same: you know what's out there...the truth! The answer from the desert itself was different and the same: knowledge. It felt like two magnetic forces trying to unite themselves, but for that to happen I had to either consent and go, or learn to ignore the messages that were seemingly everywhere and nowhere, while altogether becoming more and more insistent. I opted to ignore them, pursuing the earning, spending, ambitions and hobbies; but the more I did so, the less sense or value any of it made or had in my life. Yes, money provides nice things, and nice things are momentary distractions that ultimately keep us earning and spending; but all of it seemed somehow counterintuitive to what was otherwise obvious: I had not come into this life to be a consumer of goods and momentary distractions until I died; others may find purpose in this, but I certainly did not. Which meant, there was some reason or primordial cause that I was too afraid to confront as a necessary means of knowing my purpose and discovering my destiny, but as long as the power of my fear was more than that of my will, I was paralyzed. And that was when a prayer or one-sided dialogue began to occur at the very edge of my oasis that forever altered my life.
As mentioned, the more I ignored the invitation from the Unknown the more dissatisfied I became in the day-to-day of my life. Moreover, the edge of my oasis was a small getaway I kept in Puerto Peñasco, Sonora. A place where I could quite literally detach myself from the humdrum of the societal rat-race and just sit in a state of timelessness and inner contemplation: and, a place that I began to find every excuse to frequent whenever any kind of residual time presented itself.
In those days, Puerto Peñasco afforded beaches and tranquil places without people, where one could listen to the surf, commune with the stars, and altogether listen to that inner voice that is so often muffled by the competing distractions of life. It wasn't a traditional sort of prayer that began to emerge from within, it was more like a one-sided dialogue of vocalized frustrations that, perhaps to an uninformed observer, would have appeared like a mental breakdown or some kind of psychosis. And after all this time, I don't remember the exact wording of what was said; but basically, it went along these lines:
"I don't know what to do," I said. "Nothing I do or achieve makes any sense, and the mere idea of having to go through the motions of empty pursuits for their own sake for the rest of my life seems as pointless as the achievements themselves."
"What does that even mean 'do something different'? You want me to change? Change what exactly? I did what was expected of me: I graduated from college, married, and pursued a career so as to have nice things and take vacations—and all of it is empty—and I simply don't care about any of it!"
"Yes, I know that theoretically I can just walk away from it all," I said. "But, then what? Where will I live, what will I eat, and how will I navigate my life through this world without money? You're speaking in riddles that I don't understand. Am I supposed to be a bum? Should I wander the earth like Jules (Pulp Fiction)?"
"Obviously I'm unhappy," I admitted. "But the notion that I'm somehow blinded by all the things in my life and thereby unable to see, seems like a lie, too... Okay, I'm blind! I'll give you that. But from the looks of it so is everyone else, and I don't see anyone else consciously choosing to disavow their lives. There has to be a more sensible way forward."
These one-sided dialogues became more and more frequent and would typically conclude with a declaration that was as heartfelt as it was humiliating to someone who always appeared to have it all together: I'm not strong enough! I'm neither strong enough to walk away from my life; nor strong enough to venture into the world without...money, position, and the companionship of a woman; nor strong enough to face the humility of failure. I need your help! Please!
And, I can't help but think that those last five words were the catalyst of action that brought about my current predicament. We all know the adage: be careful what you wish for! Okay, well, I admit, when I said that I wasn't strong enough to make a course correction in my life and otherwise begged for help, I did so with the totality of my being, and because of which—and based on my newfound knowledge on how manifestations work—I can see how I very unspecifically set a chain of events into motion that resulted in the systematic dismantling on my life (not to mention the obvious collateral damage). But, if that was the case, then what essentially took place was that my prayer was answered and I was nudged out of my comfortably unhappy oasis into the desert of the unknown—i.e., prison.
What a surprisingly unexpected outcome from an otherwise innocuous statement, lament and petition. Even more astonishing, is the undeniable fact that I'm happier and more centered than ever before. But wait, I don't attribute my current wellbeing to prison itself, the latter is still a wasteful abomination of human ingenuity that knowingly placates criminality and addiction through general ineptitude, false promises, and outright fraud against the taxpayer. But, for my very limited purpose, prison has served as my Sahara outside the tent and protective confines of my former oasis that was likewise a prison. A declaration that seemingly asserts that I accomplished nothing more than moving from one prison to another.
Yes, and no.
Generally speaking, yes, I moved from one form of prison to another when I stumbled into this wrongful conviction twenty years ago. But, deprivation of distraction (from the oasis and outside world) has afforded me an opportunity to know myself at a depth and level that I would not have achieved in that other prison. Whether that was because I was too weak or otherwise unaffected by common sense and reason is irrelevant. What matters is that I discovered both a place and a pursuit that affords meaning to my life. And just as before, when I spoke into existence the reality I now live, the petition and appeal I just submitted to the court is not so different from the words I spoke all those years ago into the fathomless depths of the Unknown. With two minor exceptions: my every thought and action, today, is imbibed with the knowledge and truth that was promised to me at the outset of this journey towards confronting and otherwise decimating the fears and doubts that had a stranglehold on my life, then; and, I am no longer weak or otherwise unaffected by common sense and reason. All of which means that, this petition represents the very best of me; and, if the very best of me falls short of convincing the judiciary of the fundamental unfairness of my conviction, then, there is nothing to lament because I know that I could not have done more than I did.
At some point everyone is confronted with the very same question that stands before me now: what if my very best is not good enough? And the answer is very simple. Our very best in anything is self-fulfilling because it's an artistic expression of what and who we are; in the same way that there is no right or wrong way to apply paint to a blank canvas. The true achievement is not in the expectation fulfilled, but rather in the courage and willingness to fall down and find the strength within to stand up one more time—every time. In fact, I firmly believe that everyone is going to be wrongfully convicted at some point. Maybe not with sham trials in courtrooms that result in decades of life behind walls of steel and concrete, but nevertheless the outcome and inevitable choice is one in the same: we either pursue our destinies with courage or cower in fear of them.
One of my favorite writers, Paulo Coehlo, often revisits the teaching that every gift and blessing, if ignored, becomes a curse. A maxim that has revealed itself in my life any number of times. Which should clearly explain why I persist against the courts and continue to write. Because life is as much a collective pursuit as it is an individual one, and when we communicate our experiences we extend a hand to someone else and say, "I know what you're going through. I know it's not easy. And, I know it may even seem impossible to see it through. But whatever you do, don't turn your back to it, because whatever it is that has landed in your life, it's a blessing if you allow it to be and a curse if you don't." The indomitable nature of the human spirit is never more apparent than when defeat is so palpable that it seems inevitable. And while religions tell us to have faith, our own inner spirits speak of what the ancient Greeks knew as gnosis; knowledge that perhaps only reveals itself to those who are willing to walk down the infinite road that leads to nowhere and everywhere, willingly and without reproach to the intervening Hand that opens the door.
Top Image: Courtesy of : Free Pik
