Not had much to say for a while now. Life has been more doing than being. In the process from expected and unexpected sources I am being visited by my fears and anxiety. Triggers have and are continuing to go off all over the shop. What to do? I can do delayed gratification. Where I struggle is delaying on-coming unpleasantness. Crazy. Craziness. The mis-match of one system crashing into another. Power-over sometimes unconscious or indisguise. Whatever the form it may take my body doesn't lie. My heart sees in ways my mind sometimes placates or obfuscates. My truth is that I am not ok. Not ok with seeming power over at play, running amok. It's not ok with me, not now, not having come this far. The fear is here. Inside me.
The new insight that has been offered to me is how to turn to my fears and show warmth? Welcome in my discomfort and let it be. Not to change it or make it go away. not to grip onto it and fed the monsters. instead to get to know these parts of me. I need not demonise them.
It's ok. It's all ok. It will be ok. Whatever happens. Fight or flight is a mighty strong force to uncouple. Some say my thoughts create my reality. If my thoughts are this grim and dark am I creating this future outcome or is it simply a present reality that can be changed by shifting my thoughts into another dimension. Let's see if I can experiment with this over the coming days. Instead of assuming the worse, why not assume the best! And let the fear be.
I was told a story about observing the swirling leaves. Especially now as they have mostly fallen from the trees on their path to decay as the chill winds of winter call. The leaves fall like confetti buffeted around the ground by local gusts. They form drifts in alcoves, under bushes they accumulate and along the hedgerows they pile high. Surrounding each leaf as it descends is an infinity of space. It's as if the beauty of the dying decaying leaf is cupped in an equally beautiful illuminating glow of love.
I came across a poem by Ben Okri called The World Is Rich.
They tell me that the world
Is rich with terror.
I say the world is rich
With love unfound.
It’s inside us and all around.
Terror is there, no doubt
Violence, hunger and drought;
Rivers that no longer
Flow to the sea.
It’s the shadow of humanity.
There’s terror in the air.
And we have put it there.
We have made God into an enemy,
Have made God into a weapon,
A poverty, a blindness, an army.
But the world is rich with
Great love unfound:
Even in the terror
There is love, twisted round
And round. Set it free.
River, flow to the sea.
What is the love unfound in my fears? What can I set free in me? This buried treasure is bound to be found. Is it wrapped in a blanket of trust? Or trussed up in acceptance such that whatever the challenge or the outcome before me, all will be as it is meant to be, all will be well and I am ready for this reality. To see with new eyes and bear witness. No judgement. And to bring with me bundles of love, warmth and acceptance. Offering a safe seat for all to sit round this fireside and share stories of brave and gallant adventures, of times when all was lost and at sea, of moments when searing beauty rang through the valleys calling it's special song, of dark and dangerous monsters who sought to ensnare and trap my soul, of such delicacy and sweetness that my senses could barely behold and of the height and depths of the soaring tawny owl seeking to guide me home to my greatest belonging. Imagine, that is something worth thinking about.
