What is it like to live beneath layers and layers of lies? To hold yourself so defensively against the world. To be so utterly fearless in your lies- knowing you will be caught. To have so little faith in the truth and in the kindness of others.
What is it like to be too scared to address the real problem? To take that anger and channel it into something more mundane. To be incensed by the ones who will always have your back. To have so little faith in yourself and in the kindness of God.
What is it like to pretend to be something you’re not? To show one face to the world and another to your family. To be so split in your identity that there is no-thing to cling to. To have so little love for yourself.
What is it like to lie to yourself about your own pain? To keep a shallow hope. To come up with excuse after excuse so that you can avoid any real change. To have so little value for yourself.
These things that make me angry to witness- this anger seems so righteous. I can go out and find a dozen people- at least- who will agree with me. I can tell these stories again and again and get exactly the reaction I seek: “They did what?! You poor thing. How dare they?!” I can feed myself with this righteousness day after day after day….
But at some point I will have to admit that it is painful to live this way.
At some point I have to see that all these other people are me.
And I don’t want to.
I don’t want to feel what that’s like. I resist it. I grab the drama instead.
Gentle, gentle, gentle….
And these lessons are inescapable! I have to laugh. Even the people I work for- two incredibly intuitive, incredibly loving, incredibly attuned women with a very low tolerance for bullshit. Everywhere I look, I have no choice but to be honest.
My friend and teacher, Myron Jones, said:
“One of the surprises of this discipline is learning that the reason it has been so hard to quiet the mind is because I secretly enjoyed all its little dramas. As I finally began to achieve some degree of success I saw panic thoughts. I saw fear of boredom. Who would keep me company? What would I do without thoughts to entertain and occupy me?
So while I had finally gotten in touch with the desire for a
quiet mind, I still had resistance to it.”
Because if I truly become willing to look at this righteous anger, I will be quickly shown that none of it is as it seems. I will be shown that all of it is a call for Love. I will have to let go of all my stories.
On one side is guilt and blame and on the other is Love. I have become afraid of Love again.
We are always being called to sell the drama and accept love instead. But we want to be right. We want to be understood. We’re so blinded by conditional love that it’s hard to see God.
The trick, it seems, is to learn to love myself through the judgment. To break the cycle of blame and guilt and show a little willingness for Love. To remember how scared we all are and how that fear will present differently for each of us.
We can’t keep doing this, Danielle. We can’t keep using others as scapegoats. We have to be gentle. We have to laugh. We have to be willing to choose Love.
Gentle, gentle, gentle…
Let’s sell the drama. Let’s love one another instead. Let’s keep committing to compassion and kindness while acknowledging that there will be times we falter. Let’s keep an open heart, an open mind.
Let’s admit we have lied, projected, pretended and kept a shallow hope.
There is no difference, only oneness.
There is no separation, only Love.