I envision a world in which we grant one another the freedom to love ourselves, and to love ourselves freely in the presence of others: an intention field of mutual self-forgiveness, for the sake of awareness, freedom and love; for happiness and existence. For relief from the unnecessary desperation that so many endure, and a gateway to something beyond.
This means holding the space open for others to forgive themselves (the opposite of judgment), and finding the space where it is possible to forgive ourselves: for all that we’ve denied that we wanted, all that we’ve refused that was true, all that we’ve done in the name of whatever, when we wanted something sincerely, that we knew we could have; wanted simple pleasure and denied ourselves; wanted to grant simple pleasure to others and denied them; when we wanted contact and denied that truth.
It is possible to do this alone. It’s possible to be real alone, and at first, somebody has to dare and pierce the veil of purity. It is easier to do it together; in truth, we wake up together. In existing, we are continually influenced by how people feel about themselves. How I feel about myself influences you, and how you feel about yourself influences me. This exists in an active dynamic, on many planes of reality.
How would the world look and feel if we weren’t so scared of who we are? How would the world feel if we were not aspiring to total control, and to treating people like they have ‘delete’ buttons? We would be a lot more forgiving, and embracing. We could let go of the subtle disgust with ourselves and let compassion fill that space.
There would be less surface tension. The world would feel easier to penetrate, to participate in and to adapt to. We would feel more adaptable. We would know the places we are welcome. We could meet one another with fewer expectations of perfection, and offer one another more room to explore, including our shadows, our deepest desires, our long-concealed needs. I speak of those who hold one another as friends, or as lovers, or as fellow travelers. I envision a world where we grant one another the freedom we’re afraid to ask for ourselves.
At first those who have never strayed far from what seems entirely familiar need encouragement and support, and it is we who will offer it to one another, even if we have never strayed far or had the nerve to dare. I envision a world where we who need encouragement and support can seek it openly and have it be an admission of life rather than of death; where we who can offer encouragement do so openly.
I know many of us are doing our best to rise above a sense of unavailability without feeling foolish for putting ourselves out there. Pan is the god of springtime and his name survives in language as panic. Foolish means silly, and an early meaning of silly was empty.
We need to acknowledge the fear and desperation of the world, which lurks in our hearts and stalks our souls, knowing that in doing so we protect ourselves from being swallowed by it. That protection is simply invoking the light of awareness. We need to let the fear speak, and have the feeling that it’s being heard; that we are being heard. Unless we listen to our fear and acknowledge its existence, we will never hear the subtle voice of love, or believe it exists. Once we’ve heard both voices, we can choose again.
GB…”Hm. Actually I just realized it’s uncanny timing. ”
I know I’m writing on Eric’s behalf (since I assume this remark responds to his article), but would you care to elaborate? There’s some tingle in the back of this, and I don’t think it’s idle curiousity.
Yours,
M
I like it Mystes. We don’t do that enough.
Yes, okay. I see. It’s quite interesting you wrote this yesterday.
Hm. Actually I just realized it’s uncanny timing.
:). Thank you.
E – that is why I come to PW. Thank you.
Mysti – Like that! Bravo!!
Love, Hazel.
Mystes – i like that a lot.
Mona was maybe 80 pounds overweight. Sitting on the edge of the million-dollar day, dangling her feet in the water, and proclaiming: I wouldn’t let a chiropractor touch me with a 10 foot pole. She described the nerve that ran along the femoral artery trying to die, sizzling like a garden hose in a house fire.
Two other people in the water, I knew, were also suffering. Her New Jersey accent, blonde highlights and perfect tan were bruising the poolside peace. I could feel the mutiny piling up among the silent. “Are you stretching out at all?” I asked quietly. She stopped talking – simply saying the word ‘stretch’ opened the atmosphere. “Well, I try, but…” her voice trailed off. “About two years ago,” I began, “I was 40 pounds heavier than I am now, but started doing some very simple kundalini exercises.” “Kundawhatie?” I slipped up from the edge of the jacuzzi and spread my legs wide. “Like this…” She pivoted on her tailbone and put her legs at 90 degrees.
“Okay, what you want to do is use your coccyx and sacrum as an anchor, but rotate around them as fully as possible.” She swung around gingerly, favoring the hip that was damaged. I came around to her left side and placed my hand on her lower back. “I like how you are trying to include your hip in the rotation, but you might want to get a friend to spot you here.” “Yeah, this feels like something is moving…”
The other women joined in at that point with their own slow recovery stories: water, sunlight, stretch, breathe. The saline pool glowed under the eye of noon. Mars rolled forward, hit the water and spun like Esther Williams.
***
Like that?
ah yes — the seeds of peace camp is near where i grew up in maine. for many recent years, my parents would host 2 or 3 of the adult delegates who came to camp w/ the kids from these areas of conflict for a dinner. they always invited me and sometimes my boyfriend or a couple other friends of theirs to help the social atmosphere. i distinctly remember the first year, as the 6 of us sat around the dinner table politely discussing anything other than the violence.
finally one of us — i forget if it was me or my boyfriend — leapt the chasm and dared to ask about the violence, the politics, the danger, the fear. at that point, the conversation finally got *real*, opened up, and we started to actually connect. we hadn’t been sure if we were “supposed” to ask about these strangers’ pain; they hadn’t wanted to impose.
of course, it turned out that seeing, acknowledging, *inviting* the pain and fear into the dialogue was the only way we were going to get to the love, the compassion, the shared desires for peace and joy.
as much as we claim and cling to our privacy, i think in a lot of ways we really want to be known.
as they say, “it can’t hurt to ask.”
— amanda
ReDiscovering myCreative Self – my only true Self (via art/film school) is already a most profound experience……..I feel a resurrection and a birthing happening as the myths of my/our past are brought to light and discharged one by one….
“We need to acknowledge the fear and desperation of the world, which lurks in our hearts and stalks our souls, knowing that in doing so we protect ourselves from being swallowed by it.”
Oh yes – and how brilliant is the light!
And thank you with all my heart to Eric and each and every PlanetWaver – you are lighting my way.
Dearest Eric
Very very beautiful and moving…
I am so happy that I read this on my way to an event
called seeds of peace which promoted dialogues between
youth of war torn areas so they can realize that what they
– have in common is more than what they don’t…
feels auspicious
blessings
chrysanne