Delusion and the masks of fear

This is a meditation we shared at Sunday Service. It’s here for you to come back to, whether you were in the room or not, and to take into your week.

A note first: if you’re living with trauma, depression or anxiety, practice like this is no replacement for care. Talk to a doctor or a therapist, and go gently with anything that feels like too much to sit with alone.

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Take a moment to get still. Settle your body and breathe deeply. Let each breath loosen the tension a little.

Today we’re looking at our own minds: the places where fear has built illusions, and where the stories we’ve told ourselves have turned into walls. This isn’t about judging or shaming ourselves. It takes some courage, and it’s a choice to wake up.

Delusion often starts as protection. It can grow out of pain that felt too big to face, or out of beliefs and patterns we picked up as children or from controlling systems, like some religions or social norms. Even after we leave those systems, their habits can stay with us and shape how we avoid or deflect our feelings. Over time the protection turns into a story we believe is real, and it keeps us from seeing what’s true.

Discomfort is one of the clearest signs of this. It tends to show up around what we’ve hidden: the feelings, truths and fears we’ve pushed down. The pain we put on outside forces, or blame on “negative energy,” is often pointing at something we’re avoiding inside ourselves.

Triggers are another way it shows up. When something outside us sets off a strong reaction, we make up a story to explain it: “If they hadn’t done that, I’d feel fine,” or “This wouldn’t have happened if not for them.” The trigger points to a place where an old fear or hurt is still unresolved. The discomfort is an invitation to look inward and ask, “What part of me is reacting? What truth am I avoiding?”

Projection is a third. When a fear is buried so deep we can’t recognize it as fear, we explain the discomfort by making it someone else’s fault, or by deciding we have to keep fighting something out there. Unpleasant as it is, that discomfort is a sign that something true wants to be seen.

At Two Birds Church, we practice taking full ownership of everything we feel and experience. Our tenet of Inner Responsibility puts it this way:
“We believe that every emotion, thought, and experience is a reflection of our inner state. … This path requires courage, honesty, and the willingness to embrace our shadows as teachers, rather than fearing them, projecting, or running away.”

Waking up from delusion means meeting our fears and shadows with compassion. It means staying with discomfort instead of running from it, and letting those feelings lead us to what we’ve been avoiding.

This meditation is one way to practice that. It won’t happen overnight, but each honest moment of looking counts.

Let’s turn inward now.

Grounding
Close your eyes and bring your attention to your breath. Take a slow, deep breath in and let your belly expand. As you breathe out, feel the weight of your body resting on the ground, and let a little tension go with each breath.

If it helps, picture your breath as a soft golden light. Breathing in, it brings clarity and calm. Breathing out, it carries away fog, confusion or tension.

Notice how your body feels right now. Where are you at ease? Where do you feel tightness or discomfort? Just notice, without trying to change anything.

Now imagine roots growing from your body into the earth, holding you steady in the present moment. Breathe here, and let yourself feel supported.

Remind yourself that this is a space for curiosity and compassion. You’re here to notice and to feel, nothing more.

Feeling into discomfort
Bring your awareness to any discomfort in your body. Maybe it’s a heaviness in your stomach, a tightness in your chest, or restlessness in your arms and legs. Let your attention rest there gently.

Instead of pushing the discomfort away, get curious about it. It’s often a signal that something underneath wants to be seen. Take a moment to feel it fully.

Ask yourself:

• Where do I feel discomfort right now?
• What is this discomfort asking me to notice?

You don’t need to name where it comes from yet. Just feel it, and let it be as it is.

As you stay with it, notice whether any thoughts, beliefs or memories come up. You might sense a belief you’ve held on to, or a feeling you’ve been avoiding. You might not know why the discomfort is there, and that’s okay.

Ask gently:

• What am I hiding from or unwilling to feel?
• What truth might this discomfort be pointing me toward?

Even if no answers come, staying present with something difficult is worth doing. It’s an act of self-responsibility, and clarity often comes later.

The stories we tell
Discomfort tends to produce stories. Delusion grows when we won’t look at what’s under the discomfort, so we tell ourselves a story that explains it and spares us the deeper look.

Think about the stories you tell when discomfort shows up. Ask yourself:

• Do I blame this discomfort on someone else?
• Do I tell myself it’s because of outside circumstances?
• Do I convince myself I’m fighting invisible wars instead of looking at my own life?

Notice these stories without judging them. They aren’t failures. They’re your mind trying to protect you.

Now, gently acknowledge:
“This discomfort is mine. Even if I don’t yet understand its source, I trust that it belongs to me and holds a truth I am ready to uncover.”

Stay with that for a moment, breathing into the discomfort and the stories around it. You don’t need to force clarity. Stay open to whatever comes.

As you sit here, invite a sense of surrender. Try seeing your discomfort as something you can offer up instead of something you have to carry. You don’t need to know exactly what it means or why it’s there. Just hold the intention that it can be seen, felt and, when the time is right, let go.

This is an opening to let go of what holds you back, and to let whatever you need come in its own time.

A prayer for change
We turn now to Kali as a symbol of change. I’m not presenting Kali here as a literal being. She stands for the part of us that can tear down what isn’t working anymore: the courage to break up illusions, the willingness to let go of what we’ve clung to, and the fierce compassion it takes to face what we’ve avoided. In this picture, letting something fall apart is what makes room for clarity and growth.

This prayer to Kali is also a prayer to yourself, to the part of you that wants the truth. Whether you hear it as a call to Kali, to the universe or to your own inner self, let it be a call for change:

• A call to take apart the lies you’ve told yourself and others.
• A call to let the truth come out, in whatever form it takes.
• A call to let go of what isn’t working anymore, so you can wake up.

As I sing this prayer, let it settle in you. If you feel hesitant, let the words simply keep you company while you reflect. If you feel ready for change, let the prayer be your invitation to step forward.

Kali, come and set me free,
Transforming fires, liberate me.
Tear me down and swallow me whole,
Shiva Shakti, Om, Kali
Come and set me free.

As the words echo, imagine them reaching the places you’ve hidden and the truths you’ve avoided. Let them loosen the grip of old stories, and soften the walls you’ve built around your fears.

Feel the lies you’ve told yourself or others (the ones that shielded you from fear or pain) start to loosen. Trust that what needs to go will go over time, at its own pace and without force.

This can’t be rushed. Whether you feel ready to change or can only hold the possibility for now, being present in this moment is enough.

Closing
When you’re ready, bring your attention back to your breath. Feel its steady rhythm and the rise and fall of your chest. Then widen your awareness to your whole body, its weight resting on the ground and the earth underneath you.

Wiggle your fingers and toes. Feel how your inner world and the room around you meet again.

This doesn’t end here. Waking up is a practice, a choice we make again every day. It’s easy to slip back into old habits of blame and denial. Each time you choose to sit with discomfort and look at what’s in the shadows, you get a little freer.

The practice becomes real in everyday moments. Maybe in the coming days someone says something in a conversation or a sharing circle, and you feel a stir in your stomach. Instead of blaming it on “bad energy” or something outside you, you have a chance to look at it honestly. Ask yourself:

• What am I feeling?
• Is it judgment of what that person said?
• Is it something in me (fear, jealousy, or pain) that has been stirred?

Your discomfort is information about your inner world. It’s yours, and it has something to tell you if you’re willing to listen. The more you own your feelings, the less you’re run by the ones you used to blame on the world outside.

Owning your emotions is a lifelong practice. You may be tempted to hide in places where discomfort is avoided: spiritual bypassing, or spaces where only positivity is allowed. The discomfort will still be there underneath, waiting to be heard.

Or you can do what you’ve already started today, and face it. By coming into spaces like this one that practice radical responsibility, you’ve chosen to live honestly.

This work doesn’t start and stop on Sundays. You carry it into your home, your relationships and your quiet moments. Any moment of discomfort is a chance to look with awareness and say:
“This is mine, and I will face it with love and courage.”

As you open your eyes, take this with you. You’re where you are, and that’s the place to start. The more often you choose this practice, the easier it gets to come back to it.