Whats not to love? Its Springtime, the daffodils are blooming, the days are longer and lighter, people are emerging from their houses to garden and walk and be outside again.
Many of us are getting close to taking back that which we have given up for Lent. Or are looking forward to no longer feeling guilty about not managing the entire 40 days and nights on the wagon, (I fall into that camp).
It’s a double Bank Holiday. You may be sharing a family meal, or time with those you love.
And, of course, there are the eggs. Chocolate. Lots and lots of it, if you’re lucky.
I have always loved the Easter story. Jesus Christ Superstar is one of my favourite musicals. My brother and I could sing all the words on the soundtrack and often serenaded my Mum on long journeys. (He was always Judas, I was Jesus. He thought he got the best song.) I will always remember sitting in the cinema at the end of the movie, in still stunned silence as the credits rolled and the company packed up their gear and drove off in the van, leaving the cross on the hill. Powerful.
I was a Sunday school child. I know the story, the symbolism, the religious structure around Easter. However it is Jesus Christ Superstar that is in my cells.
I love the “Whats the buzz” song. The disciples busy, busy, busy planning and searching and justifying and judging. And Christ exploding in frustration “leave tomorrow for tomorrow!” I felt the same as them when Christ is taken and they sing “I’ve been living to see you, dying to see you but it shouldn’t be like this, this was unexpected, what do I do now? Oh could we start again please?” They felt deserted and unsupported, confused and resentful.
The last few years I have been a disciple. A disciple at the feet of coaches and gurus and writers who love me and show me and tell me and inform me. I have put my “skin in the game”, invested deeply in them in order to follow them and learn their magic. I just wanted to be them, not me. Until the contract ends, or I don’t complete their book, or life takes over or I doubt and get bored. And I feel as the disciples did; alone and disappointed. Then I look for the next teacher. Following a mad habit. Doing the same thing again and expecting a different result.
Yet all through this time there has been a small voice inside of me; my faith, my soul, whatever you want to call it, that has been growing and strengthening. I have squashed it and shut it up and listened to my ego and outside influences. Loudly playing the old drama record in order to smother the inner song. Buzzing and buzzing and expending time and energy on excuses and fear.
In the meantime though, miracles have been happening around me. Love magic. Not showing me what to do, but rewarding me when I am me.
It is when Christ physically leaves them that the disciples truly come into their power. When they realise that the miracles and the strength of Christ is within all of them. And that in order to truly become themselves they needed to destroy their dependency upon Christ the man, who showed them what to do and how to be and encouraged them to listen to the Spirit within them, their inner small voice of God.
There has to be destruction before there can be Creation. As my lover says, when I complain about a mess in the kitchen, “you cant make an omelette without breaking eggs”. You cannot be the person you dream of being without sacrifice. Of something. And it is only a shell you are breaking. A layer of fear in the form of habit or belief that needs to be torn before the new you can emerge.
The words renewal, revival, resurrection begin with “re” – indicating return to a previous condition, repetition of a previous action. The true, incredible you, is inside already quietly murmuring or loudly screaming to be rebirthed. The experiences that you have had are not going to be wasted - yet they are not who you are. You maybe divorced but you have always been loved, you may be broke but you have always had enough, you may be lonely but you have never been alone. You may, like me, be confused and fuzzy but in the silence within you, remain clear.
My old patterns don’t work. My old stories are tired. I can smell burning as I sense my renewed being emerging from under the layers. My belief was that if I paid enough and searched long enough I would find the person who would give me the answer and tell me what to do and how to be better and not me, in all areas of my life. And now I have been given a gift. I understand that it is more important to be me. That having the courage to have fun, do what I want to do, break some rules, make some new ones, practice loving being me 100 percent of the time is now my life’s purpose.
I am sloughing off the old behaviours and dreaming of how it will be to perform the new. I know that some of that skin is twisted around my ankles but I am going to free myself of it as I crawl, stagger, walk then run as the renewed me.
As you crack your Easter Eggs this weekend take a few moments to be still and listen for your true voice within. Can you hear it loudly and clearly? Or is it stifled, overwhelmed, fuzzy and buzzy?
The true you will return sooner or later. That’s what you are here for. That’s what the Easter story tells us. Are you a disciple of others telling you what to do and how not to be you? Or are you learning how to tear the shrouds covering your true self in order to experience your own resurrection in this life?