Despair Trumped

There have been times when I have momentarily felt a touch of envy for the truly beat-up and broken man. I know that this sounds absurd but it is true, because for me, it was only in this state of total defeat that I was able to seek the kind of help that went beyond what human hands, institutions or whatever I supposed would help me. It is this juncture, this spiritual bottom… this emotional train-wreck… that Saint John of the Cross wrote of. He called it the Dark Night of the Soul. You don’t have to be an alcoholic or addict to hit this sweet spot. You know the sweet spot… the term that golfers use when they hit the ball just right? Well, this is the sweet spot of the soul, a position of humility and surrender,  where my a Power greater than myself sky-rocketed me into another dimension of a spiritual awakening. Fortunately, not all of us have to end up on skid row to get to this point. Or, as our friend Big Al used to say, “You know you have hit bottom when you get tired of digging.” I might add… “not one more shovel full.”

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