Sometimes I wonder how I am going to make it through the day. I awake from a disturbing dream, one from the depths of lovelessness and I am afraid, feeling distorted and alone. What do I do with this energy? I ask for guidance, tap into Mia’s and Judy’s recordings to help clear. Despite that, the negative feelings continue. I also breathe deep as Dr Sue Morter shows to clear, claim emotions and become the master of self, but how do I step into the negative when I want no part of the negative story?
If I were to give this loveless place a voice, what would the lovelessness say to me? “I need you, I love you, accept me to be the love that I am.” Because of my rejection, a part of my body has become very contracted, emanating an energy of hate, loneliness, fear, abandonment, depression, negative self image, victimization and judgment. What would that look like to open into loveless territory and be brave to embrace something that feels unembraceable? Maybe to lighten the load, I could open up the moon roof to the sun, plant some grass, nurture the green with some water where flowers bloom. This story I can handle.
I understand that lovelessness is a teacher to love deeply. But I am afraid to love deeply when I have to step into the loveless story to activate love awake. The story seems to disperse my energy into a bubble of fear. But if I drop the story, then maybe my energy can come together where fear becomes the power, the concentrated breath of focus. I suppose dropping the story is like taking control of the mind, the drama and allowing the body to feel, emanate into a healing embrace. Maybe from this practice, we all could become the master of shadowy emotions, claiming all that love offers.
I have not seen this man for years and yet a boy who stood before me in shakiness of every body part. He was all tremors, had MRSA on both legs and he was overweight.
The living system of a human being; his body is a portal of the past, present, future: universal consciousness. A human body does not differ from the earth. He is his own ecosystem, and like the earth, he is subject to climate change as something disrupted the climate patterns held within his body.
Medication to manage his behaviors. An intervention to the mishandling of his youthful body from the past. He has a glitch, unprocessed trauma that subjected him to a diagnosis, in need of fixing and prescribing.
The artificial patterns are causing his human spirit to suffer, his body is suffocating and his consciousness oppressed from expressing his well-being. I think he is dying from the inside-out.
He stood before me and reeked of the continual mishandling of a living system that I felt deep fierceness for the violations.
Where do I stand
in the mist of all these books, each offered as an appetizer, waiting for me to take a bite of the sensual crumbs as if I could get a taste of myself.
I can’t help but feel captured by their presences, that I have to prove myself to them, get to know them, dialogue with them.
When all I want to do is release and love, lean into the discovery within the pages of creativity, the place where a child sits in wonderment, playing with her books, setting them up for a tea party.
We converse over tea the books and I, conversation is a willing intellectual passings, from one book to another. And me, I would be the open book with random writings and some empty pages.
I would not want to fill myself up, certainly not with ideal chit chat but with meaningful phrases that with each inking would create another empty page.