The beauty of imperfection....
This fast collapsing reality has gone through several phases. It went from shock, horror and rage then settled in a sort of bemused disbelief and now it has settled into a feeling that I have no words for. A dull heaviness. An incomprehension of how this can all continue for so long.
And with this came a thickening of the frown lines and an absence of the laugh cracks. And the thing is it does not abate this force driving towards extinction, right now there is not even a lull whereby one can regain one's balance, reach equanimity.
With this feeling pervading I find myself invited to a mycelium gathering in the city. A place I usually avoid at all costs, but I needed some input here. Needed to move beyond the thinking and back into the heart space. Strangely the city that I normally shun, offered something that I sought.
Bidding farewell to kids, animals and home the road before me opened up. Along with gale force winds and storms to tell the future generations about. And yet, the usual trepidation was absent. Leaving the single lane farm roads and joining into the multi lane configurations also left me unaffected. Just watching everything. Noticing the baboon tribe by the tunnel and the infants playing on a switch box. Wondering how come one never sees baboons run over. How do they do it, they often come down from the mountains to the highway to seek some entertainment. To go and check out the humans as we stream past, stopping to sometimes feed them despite the warning signs not to. And then through the tunnel which always makes me think of Diana and her last tunnel experience, and yet this somberness does not penetrate. For some reason I am less inclined to be in effect.
But you know as soon as you think you are improved in some way, presence conspires to set you up. She does this by upset - ing you. set up. up set. Just when I think I have reached a place of truth and comfort, life just shows me something that leaves me asking myself do i actually know anything at all?
This question leads me on this journey.
It appears that in the dream state, when it is recalled in the morning by the waking state, the feelings are different . For example in the waking dream, I am on a journey with my partner. I have such a strong longing for a resumption of physical intimacy with the man and yet I feel unable to approach anymore. And in this dream I really am okay with the absence of touch. Funnily enough at the guest house, when shown a choice of rooms he chose the one with separate beds as the 'cozy' one. And I was so okay with it. Went to sleep in my own bed with a big smile and gratitude. Yet in the dream I was screaming at the top of my voice, love me, touch me. So which one is it, which one am I. Am I both or am I none ?
We are sitting at the beachfront. There is a light drizzle. It is not a wild beachfront, it is gross outer city kind of stuff. Have just come out of a mall where rampant consumerism was witnessed, envy felt, even a bit of a poor me arising. Now we are waiting to go the gathering but need to pass some time. The yellow lights on the promenade go on. The sun is almost setting . The top half of the sky is a thunderous black and a slither at the bottom is a brilliant orange. On the beach two men are scanning with detectors. I notice both of them are getting their legs wet and cold in the Atlantic ocean. There is a heaviness in the car. No words just sitting. The phone rings and it is answered. His voice all jovial, It happens often. It is no big deal. I am okay with it. He gets out to walk and I sit in the car, feeling 12 again. And yet in the dream I had that night I found myself lying on the floor in a Russian psychiatric hospital screaming how I really want to respond not react, why can't I just stop reacting. Again which one is me? The passive 12 year old sitting in the rain, or the raving screaming disappointment of someone unable to pull away from habitual reaction.
And then we arrive where the gathering is to take place.
A fire greets me.
19 of us willing to lose control of thinking sit in our cocoons chewing on our shrooms and helping it down with some dark swiss chocolate. candles flickering, music embracing I watch my fellow travelers start to receive the gift of the plant. Normally called teacher plants but I like Zoner's name for them - plant allies. Sat upright iin a gathering of people, all willing to have a shift of perception. All open to a loss of the norm. All ready to be touched by the unknowable. Felt such awe for the fellow travellers. Tears just fell down. Not of sorrow but of pure pure joy. Feeling love and nothing but love. That night there were no dreams.
And of course in the morning there is the voice that says ah that was astonishing and now of course I have realized. And then of course life slices in with a gift that once again goes to show that there is not going to be one final realization. They are constantly happening and yet I have been seeking one big one that would end the need for all experiencing. And of course that is not what is about. It is about the dynamic play of Presence through this being. No past, no future, this dance that is danced. This breath that is breathed. This life that is lived. With all the nuances, textures, inspirations and challenges. Amidst those pure states of being.
In between all the stories flashing in front of me via this screen, all of them so touching, the one that really inspires me are those that are standing up to the authorities as far as feeding the homeless go. I saw an image of a table of beings serving food to a queue of beings. The fact that this is illegal and they could be arrested is just the crowning glory on the insanity facing it all. Humanity is coming into its own. Moving away from selfishness that we have come to be and moving towards a situation where it is no longer about me but us, no longer about them but about we. The air is crackling with potentiality. Rupert Murdoch's slide makes me smile - the systems are falling down.
A song found me that just caused an outpouring of love. Was sitting in my study, feeling the sorrow that always enters upon conversing with my mother. These interludes in presence once again highlighted my lacking as a daughter. How this one person has come as my greatest teacher. Knows exactly how to push buttons and thus highlight my attachments and defenses. So I am listening to this song and feeling this regret and my fingers click and a posting appears about a mother having parted this earthly realm. This combination created an outpouring of love which by some miracle found its way to the woman who has mothered me tirelessly through this life. I found those words that are so vital being uttered to her - i am so sorry, please forgive me, i love you and upon saying those words a veil lifted. A contraction released itself .
There is truly such power in love.
The One Who Loves You The Most :
When the sky is falling from above you
And the wind is raging from the coast
And you want someone who truly loves you
I will be the one who loves you the most
When the masquerades in burlesque falls
But come too ordinary to boast
You complain about the rain and hurting calls
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most
When the women with their stolen graces
Don't invite you to play host
To their daughters with fake faces
I will be the one who loves you the most
When all the debutants desert you
All the doorways are all closed
And all the harlequins who've hurt you
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most
When you'll suit a sneering swank beside you
And leave you hollow like a ghost
And you just want somebody to come find you
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most
When you forgive your imperfections
And you've auctioned all your clothes
And you look to see your true reflection
You will be the one who loves you the most
You will be the one who loves you the most
You will be the one who loves you the most
And with this came a thickening of the frown lines and an absence of the laugh cracks. And the thing is it does not abate this force driving towards extinction, right now there is not even a lull whereby one can regain one's balance, reach equanimity.
With this feeling pervading I find myself invited to a mycelium gathering in the city. A place I usually avoid at all costs, but I needed some input here. Needed to move beyond the thinking and back into the heart space. Strangely the city that I normally shun, offered something that I sought.
Bidding farewell to kids, animals and home the road before me opened up. Along with gale force winds and storms to tell the future generations about. And yet, the usual trepidation was absent. Leaving the single lane farm roads and joining into the multi lane configurations also left me unaffected. Just watching everything. Noticing the baboon tribe by the tunnel and the infants playing on a switch box. Wondering how come one never sees baboons run over. How do they do it, they often come down from the mountains to the highway to seek some entertainment. To go and check out the humans as we stream past, stopping to sometimes feed them despite the warning signs not to. And then through the tunnel which always makes me think of Diana and her last tunnel experience, and yet this somberness does not penetrate. For some reason I am less inclined to be in effect.
But you know as soon as you think you are improved in some way, presence conspires to set you up. She does this by upset - ing you. set up. up set. Just when I think I have reached a place of truth and comfort, life just shows me something that leaves me asking myself do i actually know anything at all?
This question leads me on this journey.
It appears that in the dream state, when it is recalled in the morning by the waking state, the feelings are different . For example in the waking dream, I am on a journey with my partner. I have such a strong longing for a resumption of physical intimacy with the man and yet I feel unable to approach anymore. And in this dream I really am okay with the absence of touch. Funnily enough at the guest house, when shown a choice of rooms he chose the one with separate beds as the 'cozy' one. And I was so okay with it. Went to sleep in my own bed with a big smile and gratitude. Yet in the dream I was screaming at the top of my voice, love me, touch me. So which one is it, which one am I. Am I both or am I none ?
We are sitting at the beachfront. There is a light drizzle. It is not a wild beachfront, it is gross outer city kind of stuff. Have just come out of a mall where rampant consumerism was witnessed, envy felt, even a bit of a poor me arising. Now we are waiting to go the gathering but need to pass some time. The yellow lights on the promenade go on. The sun is almost setting . The top half of the sky is a thunderous black and a slither at the bottom is a brilliant orange. On the beach two men are scanning with detectors. I notice both of them are getting their legs wet and cold in the Atlantic ocean. There is a heaviness in the car. No words just sitting. The phone rings and it is answered. His voice all jovial, It happens often. It is no big deal. I am okay with it. He gets out to walk and I sit in the car, feeling 12 again. And yet in the dream I had that night I found myself lying on the floor in a Russian psychiatric hospital screaming how I really want to respond not react, why can't I just stop reacting. Again which one is me? The passive 12 year old sitting in the rain, or the raving screaming disappointment of someone unable to pull away from habitual reaction.
And then we arrive where the gathering is to take place.
A fire greets me.
19 of us willing to lose control of thinking sit in our cocoons chewing on our shrooms and helping it down with some dark swiss chocolate. candles flickering, music embracing I watch my fellow travelers start to receive the gift of the plant. Normally called teacher plants but I like Zoner's name for them - plant allies. Sat upright iin a gathering of people, all willing to have a shift of perception. All open to a loss of the norm. All ready to be touched by the unknowable. Felt such awe for the fellow travellers. Tears just fell down. Not of sorrow but of pure pure joy. Feeling love and nothing but love. That night there were no dreams.
And of course in the morning there is the voice that says ah that was astonishing and now of course I have realized. And then of course life slices in with a gift that once again goes to show that there is not going to be one final realization. They are constantly happening and yet I have been seeking one big one that would end the need for all experiencing. And of course that is not what is about. It is about the dynamic play of Presence through this being. No past, no future, this dance that is danced. This breath that is breathed. This life that is lived. With all the nuances, textures, inspirations and challenges. Amidst those pure states of being.
In between all the stories flashing in front of me via this screen, all of them so touching, the one that really inspires me are those that are standing up to the authorities as far as feeding the homeless go. I saw an image of a table of beings serving food to a queue of beings. The fact that this is illegal and they could be arrested is just the crowning glory on the insanity facing it all. Humanity is coming into its own. Moving away from selfishness that we have come to be and moving towards a situation where it is no longer about me but us, no longer about them but about we. The air is crackling with potentiality. Rupert Murdoch's slide makes me smile - the systems are falling down.
A song found me that just caused an outpouring of love. Was sitting in my study, feeling the sorrow that always enters upon conversing with my mother. These interludes in presence once again highlighted my lacking as a daughter. How this one person has come as my greatest teacher. Knows exactly how to push buttons and thus highlight my attachments and defenses. So I am listening to this song and feeling this regret and my fingers click and a posting appears about a mother having parted this earthly realm. This combination created an outpouring of love which by some miracle found its way to the woman who has mothered me tirelessly through this life. I found those words that are so vital being uttered to her - i am so sorry, please forgive me, i love you and upon saying those words a veil lifted. A contraction released itself .
There is truly such power in love.
The One Who Loves You The Most :
When the sky is falling from above you
And the wind is raging from the coast
And you want someone who truly loves you
I will be the one who loves you the most
When the masquerades in burlesque falls
But come too ordinary to boast
You complain about the rain and hurting calls
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most
When the women with their stolen graces
Don't invite you to play host
To their daughters with fake faces
I will be the one who loves you the most
When all the debutants desert you
All the doorways are all closed
And all the harlequins who've hurt you
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most
When you'll suit a sneering swank beside you
And leave you hollow like a ghost
And you just want somebody to come find you
I will be the one who loves you the most
I will be the one who loves you the most
When you forgive your imperfections
And you've auctioned all your clothes
And you look to see your true reflection
You will be the one who loves you the most
You will be the one who loves you the most
You will be the one who loves you the most
Comments
Just beautiful Su. So close to perfection its probably beyond human language to describe.
Gratitude.
oceans breeze
solar mountain
moonlit trees
freedom sparkles
wonders light
round on motions
gathered height
dynamic flight
thunders course
livened rythms
rising forth
sunlight source
motions beam
love and care
union stream
..peace..
Exactly what I have been musing on lately Su.
And...
"...there is not going to be one final realization. They are constantly happening and yet I have been seeking one big one that would end the need for all experiencing."
...sometimes when it is just all too tiring I dream of this too. And yet, you are right, it's a process, a crazy, uplifting, maddening process. And we keep on going, hopefully with ever more trust.
Thank you for your thoughts today.
ps-
'plant allies' - love it - thanks Z!
the owl woke me up in the night, or wakefulness found me and the owl joined the scene and i wondered what on earth i had posted and what made me do it.
how do i get so personal.
and before i could do anything - a small smile spread and with that the mind just took the body's lead and surrendered to it all.
you, who were my blogging mother, ally and deep deep friend have my deepest love and respect.
neil,
freedom sparkles ......
always.
sparkles does not glitter.
there is that difference as you know.
life in creation,
this enlightenment myth we were sold was as big a lie as any others. maybe even bigger. it put so many of us seekers in a space of striving for something and thus avoiding the gift that was right before us.
this ...... as it is ...... how perfect ....not how comfortable, how powerful, how exclusive, but just perfect.....
The title almost says it all;
but the word-creation you share with us is perfection, truly.
The 'personal' seems to be universal.
Poetry flows in abundance in these parts. And I'm inclined to just stay here in midstream, foregoing the shore.
>praises<
- Aangirfan
Wow.
Wow.
And wow again.
Reading that was a blessing, Sutjie. Thanks for sharing so selflessly.
Praat ek mense-, engeletale, maar dis nie uit liefde nie
Is my woorde hol simbole, klanke sonder melodie
al kan ek geheime uitle, berge deur geloof versit, of al het ek AL die kennis, sonder liefde is ek niks.
It goes on further along the same lines.
Just so true.
P
xxx
Coming over to visit you on your page.
Thank you for sharing your perfection, Su.
Oh, and it was Pangolin who dropped "plant allies" on me, so credit where it is due.
Much Love to you All.
Z