After a restless night of sleep because of some mellow-drama I allowed myself to get involved in, I was feeling hurt, misunderstood and sad. Thank God for the order of discipline that somehow seems to stick with me, for without it I might have wallowed around in self pity all day. I got up and began my morning ritual of lighting a candle for God, chanting, pranayama and meditation while tears came and went. I was mostly upset with myself for going "down in the mud" with someone yesterday, as I have made a strong intention to just move on from people and situations that are not harmonious instead of staying and fighting, which tends to be my default behavior. There are no winners in the blame game, regardless if you are blaming yourself or others.
Blaming is a way we try to protect our heart, that soft, vulnerable, tender part of our self. Regardless of how tough we are, within everyone is that soft spot. All growth comes from that soft spot; however, it is so sensitive that often we feel uncomfortable, and sometimes even pain, when it is touched. So we try and hide it to protect it. When we stop blaming ourselves and others long enough, a space opens to feel our heart, and we discover the wounds that lie underneath the protective shell that blaming builds. As long as we need to feel right or wrong, we continue to build layers of that protective shell.
I quit drinking my beloved coffee 2 weeks ago, as I have been cleansing. This morning, feeling the need to feel better, I made myself a huge cup. Sitting in my chair hugging my huge cup of coffee, looking out the window at the beautiful sunshine and listening to the birds singing, I attempted to pull myself together by planning what I need to do today. As my mind began it's course of distraction into doing mode versus the feeling mode I was stuck in, Grace seemed to take over. I write all the time. I find my journals all over my house. Yesterday I found one stuck in an odd place, and I moved it over to a collection of books I keep by my meditation spot. I reached down in my stack of books to find something inspiring to read, and my hand landed on that journal. Out of it, fell a chart of the energetic system of the body. I had been wanting to find a good chart on Sen Lines for my upcoming Thai Massage workshop. This was exactly what I needed. I don't know why it was in this journal or even remember where it came from. This sparked my curiosity about the journal.
I opened the journal to the first page dated November 2012, and the first line in it was this quote:
"There are no justified resentments."
I don't know where this quote is from or if the preceding writing is mine or something I read, but it was exactly what needed hear.
"If I am responsible, even in some small way, for the negativity I am experiencing then I can go to work to change it. If someone or something else is responsible, then I will have to wait for them to change it before I will feel better. If I can take some responsibility for my pain, then I can take some responsibility for removing it. Blaming leaves me powerless. Resentment will destroy me. Why would I allow something that belongs to someone else to be a source of resentment, a source of self-destruction? When I feel offended, I am practicing judgement. When judging someone else to be stupid, insensitive, rude, arrogant, inconsiderate or foolish, I am offended by their conduct. When I judge another person, I do not define them, I define myself as someone who needs to judge others."
Wherever this came from, I am feeling grateful for the wisdom. Thank you, God.
Dear You,
Now is the time to follow your heart's deepest calling.
Sincerely,
Faith
If you protect yourself, you will never be free. Life is messy. We sweat. We bleed. We cry. We scream. No more than we can hold back our sweat, can we hold back our tears. If a good day to you means that you got through it without getting hurt, you are on the run afraid to face your life, afraid of your own self.
It takes a tremendous amount of energy to protect oneself on a daily basis. We lock ourselves up within the confines of our own psyche. That stuck energy turns into a breeding ground for a sickness that will ultimately suck the life out of us. And to cure that sickness, we only need to sweat and bleed and cry and scream, so that we can breathe and let go.
Because we don't want to sweat or bleed or cry or scream, we run into the woods, put our head under the covers or put up one of those imaginary shields of protection, like resentment, arrogance, coldness and indifference. When we realize that what it is we are protecting is merely an image, the concept we have of our self, it doesn't seem to be worth the energy it takes to protect it. A house of cards will never be more than a house of cards. We know eventually it will be blown away. Even the slightest disturbance can send it tumbling down. Our problems don't stem from the events that happen. Our problems stem from the inability to handle them. If our house of cards gets blown away, who is still left standing? You.
You are still there, and the you that is still there was not harmed. A feeling of loss would be experienced and that might be painful, but you already knew it was inevitable, right? We are fighting a loosing battle to protect the illusion of ourselves and our perceptions we so dearly hold onto. The battle is over when we accept the world as the mess it is, when we accept ourselves as the mess we are, and embrace our sweating, bleeding, crying and screaming.
The only way we can create our own reality is by realizing what is real. From that place of wholeness, from that place of unprotected sweating, bleeding, crying, screaming openness we become raw enough, fearless enough, genuine enough to recognize it. We cannot control the energies, the thoughts and the feelings that come through us, but we can write our own story. We write our story of the experiences of our life from the perceptions we have of them. If we cannot shift our focus past the disturbances of energies continually bombarding us, then we will always feel disturbed, always be afraid and never be free. If we can turn our attention to what does work in our lives, be grateful for the joys we do experience and drink in all the beauty that surrounds us, we can live a life beyond our wildest imaginings. The price for freedom is a high one. We must be willing to disappear by letting go of the stories that made us up and that hold us down. Our stories are our cages. Open the door and fly free.
.
