Thursday, July 14, 2005

Like when you wake up from a dream

and you KNOW all about what happened and what it meant but as soon as you try to talk about it or write it down, it gets all surreal, like that, I know something. But what is it? It is like something that you’d read in a self-help or spiritual journey sort of book and knew was true enough in many guises and yet to know it at soul level, at experiential level, escapes. Ah, but here it is in bits and pieces.

It is all about me, everything, because everything is in me and I am in everything and how can it not be so. But at the same time, it isn’t personal. At all. Other people have these reactions and that is really all about them, not me. Or I have these “reactions” and that, whatever that is, is really all about me and who I am and what I’m about, and not about them at all. Although I doubt that will be at the forefront of my remembrance the next time I am irritated no end by someone. Or the next time I feel great love for someone. Either one. Because both of them fool you into thinking it is about someone else and that it is personal when it isn’t either.

I know I have to walk in my own integrity. This was actually a phrase that kept repeating itself in my head when my father was dying, those three weeks in ICU before they turned him off, and then that day too, and the days following for the ever so bizarre rituals that enrich only funeral home directors. Find your center, CG, and stay with it no matter what. It is so insanely easy to get thrown out of that center, and mostly for stupid things. Mostly emotional things. But at the center you can neither hurt nor be hurt, you will not abuse nor allow yourself to be abused, there is that detachment and at the same time a knowing of what is rather than a wish for what might be. In fact, it is only the wish, the futile desire, that we can work up an attachment to, isn’t it?

I know that everything I desire, everything I wish for, long for, hope for, dream about, really, all those things, all they are is what I am not willing to give away. And therefore what I most need to give away. Life is not about what we get, or toys, or image, or what someone else could do for us. Nope, it is about what we have to give away. And our gift, our only one really, is to be who we are. Who we really are, and not turn ourselves into a billboard for love -- or whatever that quote from Laura was.

I know that feeding the desire beast never actually satisfies it.

I know that hearts singing sing many different songs. And that when I sing, people ask me not to. And when I fly in my dreams, it always scares me.

No comments: