Hope, Love, Crack and Truth

When, exactly did I lose all hope?  I think it happened over the last six years, slowly and incrementally.  It happened in coincidence with my spiritual unfoldment and the last major breakup which, not so coincidentally, happened over the last six years.  As both love and psychological illusion fell away, hope went with it, tagging along for the ride.  I have to say, at this point, I’m not sure it was love at all.  It was another version of ego.  Another point of addiction by a mind that thinks it’s all knowing powerful and in charge of truth.  It was more like being a crack addict.  It probably seems like a good idea to get that high at first.  It feels unbelievably good, I imagine.  Like love.  Until it starts to take over and becomes less about choice and feeling good and more about not feeling bad.  I’ve tried, in my bad choices in love, to shore up hope:  hope that love can last, hope that the high won’t wear off, hope that I can finally feel good about myself.  Which is the catch-22.  How can you feel good about being an addict?  Love, not the addicted kind that I have preferred, hasn’t helped.  I’ve felt worse for the choices I’ve made and now I’m left without hope of ever changing this life through love. 

Without hope.  See, there it is again.  It washed off from me in the bath this morning.  Now it’s falling off my shoulders like a coat that is too small.  Every little movement shrugs it off.  In this moment, something has fundamentally changed.  This feeling doesn’t feel like despair, the opposite of hope.  In this moment, I experience a quiet solidity and a full body peace.  Love is not the point, not through the experience of love, anyway.  Hope is not the answer.  The doorway to Truth lies in letting go of both and realizing that no amount of grasping or clinging to what came before will satisfy this addiction.  I am more in love with this moment than I have ever been with a man or a hope.  They feel like paper dolls.  It’s time to put them away.  It feels like relaxing into the warmth of sunshine.  Melting into the golden radiation of life itself.

Occupy Your Life

I’ve been watching various grass roots movements since the Presidential election of 2008. I’ve greatly appreciated the movement away from a general cultural malaise and into the awakening of the 99%.  

I have noticed that the malaise has been identified individually as depression throughout the population. Many individuals have been medicated for years now. Long enough to get some perspective, and long enough for the medicated to know, that it’s possible to start asking what they really want for their lives. 

Depression has served as the more comfortable place because it’s easier to live caring more about how others feel than to live knowing we are 100% responsible for our experience. That doesn’t mean that others are not trying to victimize us nor that injustices don’t happen. It just means that there is 100% responsibility on all sides of reality. The powers that be know that you were easier to deal with when you were depressed because you stayed in your room and you didn’t bother anybody. When you move up the emotional scale into the more active energies of anger or rage, you activate your superpowers of strength and power, capacities that are the hardest forces for organizations and the people who seemingly have all the control within them to deal with. It’s the reason why we have been encouraged to become a nation of sheep. 

Once upon a time, we were a nation of rebels. As we stayed with and developed our greater cultural truth, we became a truer form of Patriot Act. We moved as a nation towards knowing and holding this Truth to be self evident, that all men are created equal. We moved towards Truth. We did not deviate and became an autonomous entity and gave the world a new model of self governing.
From our anger about not controlling our country’s destiny we gave up a path that was no longer tenable. In the truth of that, we did the right thing and it’s worked, more or less, until now. I hold that it’s still working and the beauty of the moment is that we are no longer be sheep, raised to be slaughtered on the alter of materialism. The call now is not so much about getting other people’s money. It’s not even about wresting control. It’s about personal power and living in our personal validation that strength and power resides within us. 

The mistake is to ask anyone outside ourselves to give it to us. It cannot be done. “Please may we self govern?” That’s powerless. “Can’t we do it differently?” There’s blame in that. We need personal acknowledgement, from that truly quiet place of power deeply held in the belly. We need to know that We don’t have to ask or to blame. 

Now is the time to listen to the guidance within the rage and anger, even in the depression that you may be evidencing and turn them into the power, strength and truth. No, it’s not easy. You will get feedback about where you are in this moment in time. The powers that be will reflect powerlessness back to you. You are easier to deal with by continuing to act like sheep waiting for your fate. Now try to move through the body, feel yourself through your heart and belly. Sit quietly for few concentrated minutes and ask yourself, “What is it that you really want?” Discover your superpowers. You probably have more than one. Take one and make a small act with it. Occupy your life. You will feel the power, the strength and the Truth of who you really are.

I'm Not Here, Please Leave A Message At The Beep

I am trying to get the hang of this.  I'm afraid I've reached a saturation point with technology at this age.  I'm still not sure that I can remember one more password. I'm also feeling attracted to the ability to randomly send out thoughts as they become important enough to feel like sharing them.  Kind of like a newspaper columnist.  I'm hoping that the string of thoughts aren't so random.  Maybe there will be a thread or an undercurrent of symbolism that makes sense.  I can't stand the need to say something meaningful with every word.  That's what I can't stand about Facebook posts.  It's either vapid, like "Banana waffles!"  or emotionally diffused. As if stating what is felt becomes too trite when shouted out over social networking.  The mind, and it's personality, love Facebooking.  They love to be "Liked."  I notice the wave of satisfaction that happens when my posts are liked and now you know that I'm registering how many and who exactly likes your posts too.

Maybe that's the point to this.  This blog is one more way to feel connected.  I've always needed a daily friend, and this blog is that for me now.  So follow along as I learn this lesson, the latest tribal version of throwing up smoke signals to see if anyone is out there paying attention.

There's nothing to do- except everything

Wow.  Here I am in another place that I know nothing about.  What I do  know is that it's true that in my life, the only constant has been change.  Once again I have no idea how to work this or where it's taking me.  Cue Talking Heads- "How do I work this?  This is not my beautiful life." 
So here I am truly ready for the next chapter. Bringing on my beautiful life by a consistent and persistent stream of change.  Can I blog it all the way through?  I feel I've fallen into a black hole where no light is escaping and everything solid has been broken up and dispersed.

My question is how to remain in the slip stream of all that is changing.  I've lived in the same place with the same community of people for 15 years.  I attempted to get in deeper in the business of the community only to find myself centrifuged out.  This place is a vortex of energy.  The magma is closer to the surface here.  I'm not just speaking metaphorically.  The hot springs here is not a symbolic pool.  It's a real place to soak it all in.  Maybe the hot springs has cooked me. 

Poke me with a fork to see if I'm done.