As you may know by reading my Welcome Message, as I transcend limitations on my own spiritual journey and something of interest comes up, I make every effort to share my Journal with readers. For me, this post is opening myself in a way that is more vulnerable and transparent than ever before. But, the risk is worth it, if one person reading in the future is freed from living on Auto Pilot.
What is Living on Auto Pilot?
It wasn’t until I worked with Rikka Zimmerman that I realized that most people on the spiritual path, even those who claim being at choice, never really experience living at choice. I know this because I was one of them. So, let me describe what that looks like, both from a general and personal point of view.
Typically, whatever spiritual path people are on, most believe that there is a Divine Plan. They also seem to feel that because there is a Divine Plan, there is only one “right way” to do things. From what I’ve seen, these folk spend most of their time, energy, and financial resources getting readings, visiting gurus, and praying for instructions on how to live life. They don’t make a decision or a move, unless they are assured that they are on track with Divine’s choice for their lives, perhaps fearing punishment for coming off the Divine Plan. Essentially, there is nothing wrong with this pattern, except that people who look to Divine for their life plan can’t live life at choice as empowered sovereign beings who have dominion over reality. They live someone else’s choices and then often wonder why even though they claim sovereignty, they are so depressed, unhappy, under-resourced, and dissatisfied. Shouldn’t they be experiencing bliss? After all, aren’t they following Divine’s instructions to the letter?
Rikka asked so many questions about this. Here are some of mine: “What if the Divine Plan is you being you?” “What if all you are required to do is make authentic choices?” “Does a sovereign being (like a king, queen, emperor, empress) make a decision or do they wait until they are told what to do?” “Does it work for you to put life on hold while you are waiting for someone else’s opinion of what you should do?” These questions all made sense to me, since I had healed nerve damage from an electrocution by living with Les Brown’s maxim,
“Don’t let someone else’s opinion of who you are become your reality.”
So, why two years down the road from being introduced to the full implications of sovereignty did I still live life on Auto Pilot?
Life on Auto Pilot Is an Ingrained Habit
The best way I can describe ingrained, habitual living on Auto Pilot is to share part of my life story with you. After decades of therapy, hypnotherapy, clearing, self-growth classes, and empowerment techniques, I am dealing with a deeply ingrained habit at its core. Let me describe where this pattern first came from and how it repeats every day.
My Mother was a savant, a musical genius from a very young age. My Father was her rebellion from a musical system where she was required to practice 8 hours a day, around her other activities. He was an awesome man, but a Chicago meat and potatoes kind of guy. So, he wasn’t prepared to live life with a savant who went into mental illness when “real life” came into her awareness. Neither was I.
What I first remember was my Mom practicing, when I was around 3 years old. The beautiful music in our home was sublime. But, I began to notice that she wouldn’t play through a piece. She would pick a section and play it over and over and over, perfecting some small nuance that was beyond what I could hear. She seemed to be listening to some version of the music that a mere mortal child couldn’t fathom.
Then, Mom had her first psychotic break when her mother died. I was around 8 years old at the time. I still see her crying all the time, the fear the visions that kept her from sleeping or relaxing plastered on her face, the neighbor baby sitting her during the day, because she ran away. My Dad was at work from early morning until late at night. Looking back I think he liked it that way, because he didn’t have to deal with the shame of having a mentally ill wife.
Let me try and give you a flavor of what that was like for me. All of a sudden, I was required to behave in a certain way. My childhood dissolved before my eyes in a heap of adult responsibility — making sure everyone got fed and the kitchen was clean after meals, babysitting my Mom after the neighbor left so she wouldn’t run away, helping my little sister get ready for bed, sitting up with Mom all night, listening to her worst nightmares. My Dad abdicated his adult responsibility for taking care of his wife and his children by using the excuse that he had to sleep so he could go to work early next morning.
When my Mom would come out of the psychotic break, her requirements were legion because she totally controlled our reality in order to prevent herself from “going crazy” again. We did certain activities on certain days at certain times. Dirty laundry was done on Mondays. No one was allowed to use the clothes washer during the time when Mom designated the machine as hers. Meal times and cleanup were strictly regimented, until I was much older. If you used the bathroom sink, you had to polish it dry and hang the hand towel up in a very specific way. There were certain words we couldn’t say like, “Cancer” or “Death.” If loved ones, like my Mom’s favorite brother, John, got “Cancer,” we weren’t allowed to mention his name again. Once John had “Cancer” my Mom never saw him or spoke to him before he died a few years later. She refused to go to funerals, so my Sister and I had to represent the family with my Dad. I wasn’t given a choice, even though I hated wakes and funerals. I could see and hear the spirits of all the dead people there and was overwhelmed. It felt like insult on top of injury.
If we transgressed any of these rules punishments were violent, swift, and completely out of line with the transgression. You were as likely to be grounded from the next school social activity for a small infraction as you were for getting an “F” on your report card. What I remember the most was the screaming, the slapping and beatings, the violence of the energy that went with the words. No wonder I learned how to make complex To Do Lists that took into consideration every circumstance that might occur; no wonder I overdo every task, with a view to perfection.
I’m almost 61 years old now, and I still hear my Mom screaming in my mind, even though I’ve energetically sent her on her way a long time ago. (It’s like the insanity and violence is in your cells and keeps echoing.) So, I’ve let my perfectionist/over achiever run my life for a very long time. While some of the skills I learned serve me when I am managing a very complex project at work, because there aren’t any problems I haven’t thought of and solved before we start a project, my life can be miserable at times. I find myself being impatient, judgmental, and frustrated with the people I love, with myself. No one can live to the standards I set and live a relaxed, flowing life, including me. What’s even sadder is that this pattern is so unconscious – it’s my go to pattern for doing everything. Boiling an egg will get the same treatment as creating world peace. No wonder my body is dealing with the effects of stress.
The reason why this pattern isn’t good for me is that it’s a habit. I usually don’t even spend 15 seconds thinking about whether I would like to accomplish a task from a different place. I almost never spend a moment telling people who would like me to manage their project that I don’t feel happy when I do this work, that I’d rather not. I don’t hear the praise when “everything turns out perfectly.” I’m reviewing the To Do List and making sure all tasks were accomplished, making a new To Do List for the emerging pattern I see coming up on the horizon, and thinking about the next set of pitfalls to avoid.
I’ll continue to post followups to this one. I’ll be discussing why I decided to stop living life on auto pilot and how I’m working on this pattern. It is my heartfelt intention to help someone else as they walk the road to freedom and choice.