Messy Guru

Godspeed

I am beginning to think, in spite of it all that God does truly have a plan for me much larger than myself.  Perhaps I am feeling a bit optimistic today.  Even if I am feeling like yesterday.  My anxiety is still there. 

However.

I don't think I am in charge of this anymore.  As much as I think that I am.  As much that I want my body to be.   In charge.   Of it.  Things keep moving beyond me.

Way beyond me.

And above.

Perhaps I am afraid that I will be ok.  In spite of it all.  There is a larger plan for me.  I love the Dixie Chicks.  They sing to my heart.  And to the hope of things getting better.  Or worse.  They still sing.

The following is a song by them called, "Godspeed" that has words like this:

Godspeed

Dragon tales and the water is wide Pirate’s sail and lost boys fly Fish bite moonbeams every night And I love you Godspeed, little man Sweet dreams, little man Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings Godspeed Sweet dreams The rocket racer’s all tuckered out Superman’s in pajamas on the couch Goodnight moon, we’ll find the mouse And I love you Godspeed, little man Sweet dreams, little man Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings Godspeed Sweet dreams God bless mommy and match box cars God bless dad and thanks for the stars God heard amen, wherever you are And I love you Godspeed, little man Sweet dreams, little man Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings Godspeed Godspeed Godspeed Sweet dreams

Ring of Fire

I fell into a beautiful and wonderful meditation this morning.  It lasted for a very long time.  I lost time for a good amount of time.  My spine felt hot and my body moved on the couch without me asking it too.

A Ring of Fire.

Nothing seems to match during these times. 

Me or the experience I am having while doing this.

Johnny Cash has a great song called Ring of Fire:

Love is a burning thing,
And it makes a fiery ring
Bound by wild desire --
I fell into a ring of fire.

I fell into a burning ring of fire --
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fire, the ring of fire.

The taste of love is sweet
When hearts like ours meet.
I fell for you like a child --
Oh, but the fire ran wild.

I fell into a burning ring of fire --
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fir, the ring of fire.

I fell into a burning ring of fire --
I went down, down, down,
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fir, the ring of fire.

The ring of fire (and Fade)

Perhaps its the trumpet that makes this song so profound.

Or.

Its my own fire I cannot control.

and the flames went higher.............

the ring of fire..........

Fix You

I simply cannot pour enough alcohol and medicine on this body and Mind.  Today seems like an impossible day.  My stomach has a knot in it.  Literally I can touch my stomach and there is a bit of my intestine that is bound up.

Sounds dramatic.

Except it is.

I even went to the ER thinking it was something bigger than it was.  I felt embarrassed as it was just anxiety.  Maybe even a panic attack.

Except.

I don't even know what it is.

At all.

Coldplay has a beautiful song called, "Fix You" that I love:

"When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down on your face
And on your face I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down on your face
And on your face I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you."

How do you fix a part of you that you don't even know is broken?

Why is Reality so hard for me to live in?

It's mostly Kind.

But not today.

Even.

Annunciation

I am reading a book by Kim Rosen called, "Saved by a Poem".  In it she has written about the trans formative process of reading a poem.  One of the poems she has in her book is called "Annunciation" by Marie Howe"

ANNUNCIATION

Even if I don't see it again -- nor ever feel it
I know it is -- and that if once it hailed me
it ever does --

And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction
not as towards a place, but it was a tilting
within myself,

as one turns a mirror to flash the light to where
it isn't -- I was blinded like that -- and swam
in what shone at me

only able to endure it by being no one and so
specifically myself I thought I'd die
from being loved like that."

I also looked up the word Annunciation:

"announcement: a formal public statement; "the government made an announcement about changes in the drug war"; "a declaration of independence".

"I know it is" Marie writes.  I also know IT IS.  Even if I forget it most of the time.  It exists.  Sometimes in deep meditation or after a rigorous yoga class.  Or the way my dog looks at me sometimes almost human like. 

Perhaps I am afraid of "being loved like that".  It may destroy "that man" and I will be IT.  How terrifying and wondrous all at the same time. 

 

 

 

Killing The Rage

I watched on Oprah today a 15 year old boy explain why he killed his molester.  The judge sentenced him to five years of probation and mandatory counseling.  In part of his sentencing the judge said this, "A skillful groomer, a skillful abuser gets into the child's DNA and becomes part of the child, and child cannot cast him off regardless of age." 

The idea of sexual abuse becoming "part of the child" hit home for me.

That sinking feeling of never being able to shake this abuse from my DNA.  Watching this young boy explain his rage, frustration, and embarrassment of being groomed and molested at 12 is really close to my own experience. 

I still am living out the effects of my own abuse.  A Mind that wonders off into a different Reality at times.  Creating my own world so to speak.  I struggle sometimes with finding my own voice and space. 

My sister posted this wonderful poem on her blog that I just love.  Perhaps it is the answer to all of this Rage and Anger:

Love After Love

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door,

in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread.

Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

—Derek Walcott

 

 

Make Believe

I heard a Christian minister on TV this morning talk about the word believe and how it can "save" you when you die.  I wondered how a belief (a bundle of thoughts) could save anybody at their death.  I also wanted to know the definition of the word believe:

"accept as true; take to be true; "I believed his report"; "We didn't believe his stories from the War"; "She believes in spirits".

The word "accept" jumps out at me.  Also the word "as".  I used to "believe" many things about this world that are no longer true.  My definition and experience of the word, "family" have changed dramatically.  I no longer "believe" in religion.  It seems you have to "accept AS true" many ideas that people tell you to be "saved".

Saved from what?  How can any body save you? 

I no longer believe you.  

I think even God is happy with that.

Amen. 

 

Joy Exploding

I woke up last night with a strange feeling of being separate from myself.  I  could describe it as clearly seeing "that man" and kept laughing out loud on how I could have ever believed "that" was "me". 

"That man" seemed to be carrying all the experiences of this lifetime and it was all attached to the feeling of "I".  Without the "I" there was no "me".  No story.  It was strange to describe and feel.  Yet, perfectly normal and real.

My spine also started to move about without me prompting it.  Almost into a yoga position and then an intense heat shot up through the spine and a beautiful feeling of being in a state without the "I".  No me.  It felt wonderful.  And exhilarating.  Nirvana. 

I asked out loud what this was and a voice answered "samadhi".  I looked up the definition of it:  "The name in India for spiritual ecstasy. It is a state of complete trance, induced by means of mystic concentration."

Except that "I" was not doing it.  It was doing it without me or I.

The feeling (or lack of it) kept getting more and more intense.  At one point "I" exclaimed that I had died.  Except that the body kept breathing.  Joy exploded in me and through me. Joy was all there was/is.  Hard to explain.  Even harder to believe someone telling us this is happening to them

So many nights prior to this of waking up in a heightened state of anxiety and fear.  I felt no fear last night.  This must be our Natural State.  Prior to birth and death.  How wonderful to know this prior to the death of the body.

"Therefore when you can forget about your scripture, forget about everything you have learned, and become totally empty, you will then become full."  Robert Adams. 

This Astonishing Light

In the book, "Tattoos of The Heart" by Gregory Boyle he writes of taking a former gang member in drug rehab to his brothers funeral and the dream the brother had of the Jesuit Priest:

"Pedro is out front waiting for me, and we greet each other with abrazos and a minimum of words.  We hop in the car.  Any worry I have about what "to say" gets punctured by Pedro's insistence to tell me about a dream he had the night before.

"It's a trip, G.  I had this dream last night.  And you were in it."

"And in this dream, Pedro and I are in this large, empty room, just the two of us.  There are no lights, no illuminated exit signs, no light creeping in from under the doors.  There are no windows.  There is no light.  He seems to know that I am there with him.  A sense, really, though we do not speak.  Suddenly, in this dark silence, I retrieve a flashlight from my pocket and push it on.  I find the light switch in the room, on the wall, and I shine this narrow beam of light on the switch.  I don't speak.  I just hold the beam steady, unwavering.  Pedro says that even though no words are exchanged, he knows he is the only one who can turn this light switch on.  He thanks me for happening to have a flashlight.  He makes his way to the switch following the beam with, I suppose, some trepidation.  He arrives at the switch, takes a deep breath, and flips it on.  The room is flooded with light.

"He is now sobbing at this point, in the telling of the dream.  And with a voice of astonishing discovery, he says, "And the light.......is better.....than the darkness."

"As if he did not previously know this to be the case.  He's weeping, unable to continue.  Then he says, "I guess......my brother........just never found the light switch."  Possessing flashlights and occasionally knowing where to aim them has be enough for us.  Fortunately, none us can save anybody.  But we all find ourselves in this dark, windowless room, fumbling for grace and flashlights.  You aim the light this time and I'll do it the next."

"The slow work of God."

"And you hope, and you wait, for the light--this astonishing light."

 

Watching The Sun Go Down

I am reading a fascinating book called, "Tattoos on the Heart:  The Power of Boundless Compassion" by Gregory Boyle.  In it he describes working with former gang members in Los Angles as a Jesuit Priest:

"I was praising a homie for one thing or another on the phone, and he just wouldn't have it.  "You know," he insists, "I still have my blemishes."  We still have to put our Western minds in a headlock and wrestle them to the ground.  We think "blemishes" are shortcomings.  We think our continually gnarly hardwired responses are not just proof our humanity but (somehow) of our unworthiness.  Homies are particularly culpable here.  In an acute gangster version of the Stockholm syndrome, homies identify with, and grow attached to their weaknesses and difficulties and burdens.  You hope, in the light of this, to shift their attention and allegiance to their own basic goodness.  You show them the bright blue sky of their sacredness, and they are transfixed only by the ominous clouds.  You stand there with them and encourage them to stare above and wait twenty minutes.  "You are the sky," as Pema Chodron would insist.  "Everything else, it's just weather."

I spent most of yesterday in anxiety.  Nothing but a 5pm yoga class could shake me out of it.  The feelings are so intense in those moments.  The strange thing is they are non specific and I have no proof of origin. 

Each yoga posture felt like it was breaking the "ominous clouds" and helping me regain my footing and sense of calmness.  The good news is that is not always my permanent state.  My days are sometimes the hardest.  The 9 to 5 I call it.  Even on the weekends.  The Sun seems really intense and the brightness peers into my Soul and the pain wants to run and hide.

Coldplay has a song called, "Lost" that I love:

Just because I'm losing
Doesn't mean I'm lost
Doesn't mean I'll stop
Doesn't mean I would cross

Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get
What I deserved
No better and no worse

I just got lost
Every river that I tried to cross
Every door I ever tried was locked
Ohhh and I'm...
Just waiting 'til the shine wears off

You might be a big fish
In a little pond
Doesn't mean you've won
'Cause a long may come
A bigger one

And you'll be lost
Every river that you tried to cross
Every gun you ever held went off
Ohhh and I'm...
Just waiting until the firing stopped
Ohhh and I'm...
Just waiting 'til the shine wears off

Ohhh and I...
Just waiting 'til the shine wears off
Ohhh and I..
Just waiting 'til the shine wears off 

Scary Jesus

I realized recently that the reason people follow Jesus is because they were taught to and they are scared of the consequences if they don't.  The Jesus they talk about is scary to me.  He does not seem kind when they talk about him and they also tell me what he said or what he suppose to have said. 

I also find it troubling that the people who quote him the most often are the ones who normally disappoint me as a human being.  They would blame that on me or the devil. 

You must "believe" is what they tell me.  You must confess your sins to Jesus.  You must follow the Bible.  You must repent. 

Actuallly, No I don't. 

And Yes, I am willing to go to Hell because of it. 

I will not follow a religion that tries to tell me where to go and what to do.  I simply do not have to.  At all.  I find immense Peace with the lack of this religion and dogma in my life.  Their God is mean and terrible.  Throwing wicked spells on the Earth and causing grief to humanity.  Or wait, that's the Devil.  It's hard to figure out who does what in their world.

I don't believe in a Scary Jesus or Scary God.  

Thank God for that.

One of my favorite quotes:

You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do. ~Anne Lamott