THE EXISTENTIAL ITCH

There’s an existential itch—a subtle discomfort—that many of us carry. It isn’t tied to personal circumstances but instead reaches into the mystery of simply being here. For those of us bound to skin and bones, squeezed into form, life can feel strangely confining, as if existence itself is too small to contain the vastness we sense within. We often take this discomfort personally, believing it’s ours alone, or we project it outward, letting it color our perception of reality.

But, with grace, a shift can happen. A new awareness opens, revealing that we are more than this “small me.” We glimpse a boundless consciousness that holds both form and formlessness, uncovering a deeper, lasting peace. Suddenly, we sense we are not separate islands; we are both the wave and the ocean, both the universe and the star. The story of the isolated self fades, and what remains is a vastness, a connection with the divine.

This transition isn’t easy. It may involve a journey through darkness or require us to unravel old beliefs and grievances. Yet, as we embrace this path, a deeper abiding takes root. We grow in our capacity to hold the full human experience, both the personal and collective, in a lighter, more compassionate embrace. In time, we find ourselves loving life in all its beautiful discomfort, exactly as it is.

Here is the poem that inspired this piece.

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There is a kind of existential itch
That is beyond the personal life
It’s the discomfort of being here at all
The very raw fact of being in form
The truth is our existence is bewildering and disorientating
And for many living in skin and bones, squeezed into form,
Is in itself a kind of prison
And a lifelong existential discomfort is easily carried
That becomes personalized and taken personally
Or projected outwards into the world
This is like suffering beyond the story

And then, with grace, things start to change
And a deeper seeing happens
Or a deeper equanimity is opened to
And awareness reveals
We are the ocean, not just the waves
We are the universe, not just the star
We are consciousness, not just the form
We are unconditional love, not just an isolated island of fear
This is dropping the story of the small me
And falling deeply into vastness of the divine

Of course the shift from one to the other
May involve a profound journey
Even a dark night of the soul
It may mean unravelling layers of false and erroneous belief
Or years of carrying grievances and wounds
It may take time, even though flashes of illumination have been known

But slowly slowly a deeper abiding happens
And although the existential itch may never completely disappear
Now there is a greater capacity
To hold the whole human experience
The personal and the collective experience
In a much lighter and compassionate embrace
And to love it all anyway.

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Find me outside the village
Sitting alone
Gazing into the fire
Or losing myself 
In the night sky
If you want to come 
And sit with me
You must be empty
And have no questions
For I will have no answers
But this silence.

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Grace is the realization
That everything was
Is and always will be
Held in the bowl
Of unconditional love
No matter how it appears.

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If you find something beautiful
Within your own heart
Love it and be devoted to it
The frequency of your love
Will be enough to touch others
Not because of what you say or do
But because of what you have become.

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Your one true task
Is to remain rooted
In heart’s wisdom
Even as the storm rages
As the wild wind screams
And mind demands allegiance
To stay softly firm
And whisper gently
‘No, not this time.’

A recent video: Blessed are the Outsiders: Includes one of the poems above.