What is the point fighting against what was?
What is the point of fighting against what is not, and may or may not be?
What is the point of fighting against what is not, and may or will be?
What is the point of fighting against what IS?
If I ask myself honestly, I realise the illusion of thinking that there is a point to any of these.
You cannot change the past, you cannot change the future, which is always imagined (anticipated or feared), and you cannot change what IS at this very moment.
So what can you change? For you are not just a dead leaf blowing in the wind. (Or are you?)
CREATE is the word I love to use. Create the world you want to live in. Create the life you want to live. In Ghandi's words: Be the change you want to see in the world. Those are not just words. We all love complaining, let's stop complaining. (If you are not ready to stop complaining, complain consciously and real good and hard till you're done...) Live in the state "as if" - it is the most exciting way to be. It is the way every child lives. Put half your mind into the now, observe and accept what is, and put the other half into how you want things to be. NEVER into how you don't want things to be! Do not despair at all about the discrepancy. That is what drags us down! Grab the challenge. There is a difference between what is and what will be or what you would have it be. If that were not so, there would be no growth, no change, no progress, no movement. It is natural. Do not worry about that. Just be so simple and be so patient. Hold the picture, live the life, and watch it unfold. Be at peace with what is. It will change! That much is certain. If it does not, it is because you are keeping it in place somehow. Life is the most exciting journey you can ever be on. Make it your own. Own it!
This is my motivation to me. I thought I'd share it with you.
May 25, 2010
May 24, 2010
I'm an alien in my home...
how odd that those who are closest to us from birth turn out to be the most distant to us later on. does every child feel like an alien in it's own family? is that in fact more normal or common than feeling a part of it? i can't help wondering. is the alienation we feel toward our parents, or as parents toward out children, actually just an indicator of how alienated we are from ourselves? when you are young you do not feel this alienation. later on you pretend you don't feel it, or you feel it even more and suffer as only youth is capable of suffering... i don't know. i just wonder about it. there must be something good in it for us to "take home" ...
May 23, 2010
It's not getting what we want, wanting what can't have, wanting things to be different from how they are that make us build up this inner resistence to what is. I have been doing a bit of that lately, and quite a bit of it today. It's been a frownful day. And by 6pm I was bloody exhausted from nothing... Now I know my energy drain is nothing but my own mind... Am not managing it all that well.
On top of that I became so acutely aware of the masses of negativity around me. Who is actually really ALIVE out there? Really JOYFUL for no particular reason? Really just there to smile at the stranger, and not just so bloody worried about all the little and the big things going on in their own lives? Worry over here is a state of being... Goodness me. I was quite overwhelmed. And at the same time I must acknowlede what I see in the mirror of life... My own negativity magnified... That was a mouthful a bit bigger than I could chew... At least I didn't freak out, which is what i have been doing lately each time I come upon such a realisation...
And so the journey continues...
On top of that I became so acutely aware of the masses of negativity around me. Who is actually really ALIVE out there? Really JOYFUL for no particular reason? Really just there to smile at the stranger, and not just so bloody worried about all the little and the big things going on in their own lives? Worry over here is a state of being... Goodness me. I was quite overwhelmed. And at the same time I must acknowlede what I see in the mirror of life... My own negativity magnified... That was a mouthful a bit bigger than I could chew... At least I didn't freak out, which is what i have been doing lately each time I come upon such a realisation...
And so the journey continues...
May 20, 2010
A drizzly walk on the wild side
Yesterday I went for a drizzly walk in the Botanical Gardens. What a piece of Paradise. It made me think about man’s relationship to Nature. How we like her wild, and controlled, controlled wild, but mostly controlled. And a certain “giving of direction” serves her well, or at least does not hurt. But mostly we simply rape her blind. Yet in a garden like that, we keep plants from all over the world for our own viewing pleasure (with some educational benefits). It does seem to me like an altar to Nature, a place to show our complete reverence. (Is there anything like it in a zoo? Or is that “simply” a collection of caged animals, purely there for our entertainment? (Again, barring the one or two cases where near extinct creatures are given a habitat to perhaps multiply abundantly enough to be re-released into the wild.)
As I was walking along all by myself – there was almost nobody about, for people here call days like yesterday “miserable” – they don’t like all the inconvenience of the heavenly waters… – I suddenly found myself right back in last year’s pilgrimage. Just me and nature, rain, birdsong, total and utter peace and harmony. I could hear it all talk to me, or rather NOT talk, but embrace me. I could feel how deeply, deeply connected I am with this earth and everything in and on it. I depend on it, even for the guidance of where to place my foot. You can walk on rocky or rooty terrain, and need never look down, and you will not slip or trip. She will guide you if you let her. Oh, it lasted only moments yesterday, but I had plenty of it last year, and will soon again when I go hiking in June.
And then the real “hammer” came, also something I experienced lots of on my walk last year. From within this space “suddenly” I came people. Even just seeing them from a distance. It was enough. (Last year it was always these shifts I had to make inside when approaching and entering into cities or human dwelling places.) I was struck by the sense of totally disarrayed energy that they presented compared to the natural flow of nature on her own. I could describe this better with pictures. I think animals do not need to see people, or smell them, they can sense them. A disruption in the energy field around them. Wow, I perceived that so strongly.
And suddenly I understood another factor of what has been so troublesome with this transition back to Europe for me. Entering this different energy field. Back in SA I was almost only surrounded by like energy, from just a certain to a very strong level of like-mindedness. Here I am not anymore. I perceive myself as an alien here. And I allow the world around me to constantly affect my own energy field, and throw me off kilter. All the freakin’ time. It’s distressing to say the least. Every conversation I have I enter someone’s world, abandoning, for moments, my own… And what happens to the house when the master is away? (Or, in other words: When the cat is gone, the mice come out to play.)
I must become much more aware of this. Much more “vigilant and alert” (French accent, which movie? :-) ) and become the “ever alert watcher of your inner space” (Eckhart Tolle)
Have a blessed and mindful day!
May 17, 2010
Song to Emily
Sadness is my middle name
Sadness and Joy to me are the same
A waste of time every breath that I take
A lie the word the smile I fake
Tomorrow just another day
Yesterday has blown away
I hate the world for hating me
It's blindness to the things I see
The life that screams inside me won't be killed by you
The thirst for love inside me won't be filled by you
You think you know me, that you got me figured out
You're so conceited, and that's what you're all about
I didn't ask to be here, did I now
Gotta make the best of it anyhow
Like a fish on a hook left on dry land
And you really think you understand...
(inspired by Emily's blog)
May 16, 2010
Nightwatch
the night is so still
the house is asleep
the clock ticks in rhythm
with the watch i keep
sleep plucks its strings
time’s standing still
the candlelight sings
with nothing i fill
aimless i drift
where i know myself well
where space is my friend
and my wishing well
but in this great nothing
what could i wish for
knowing completeness
i need nothing more
May 15, 2010
suddenly there's silence
or finally i am aware of it
aware of what has always been
expanse
suddenly i see all time and space spread out to every side of me
i feel the urge to be afraid
i see the hooks the world is hanging on
i hang not on those hooks
still feel the urge to be afraid
the urge to be connected to the known
the unknown always beckoning
the urge to be like everybody else
feeling safe and fitting in
the fear compounded by the fear and the desire to abandon what i am
to crack, to lose the identity i thought i did not have...
or finally i am aware of it
aware of what has always been
expanse
suddenly i see all time and space spread out to every side of me
i feel the urge to be afraid
i see the hooks the world is hanging on
i hang not on those hooks
still feel the urge to be afraid
the urge to be connected to the known
the unknown always beckoning
the urge to be like everybody else
feeling safe and fitting in
the fear compounded by the fear and the desire to abandon what i am
to crack, to lose the identity i thought i did not have...
May 14, 2010
Nobody said... the dark gets darker in the light...
The Nobody shares a very interesting post. (Thank You!) On how the darkness in a dark room, in which he could see the outlines of things and such because his eyes were used to the dark, seem to grow darker in intensity when he switched on a torch, which only ever lit up selected areas.
Never mind the optical quantifications of this, but methinks he really hit onto something beautiful! Any situation is something we get accustomed to over time. But contrast it with a different set of parameters (how do I best express this?) and the same old situation appears more intense than it was before. You may be slightly bored. Something exciting happens, and afterwards the boredom you might return to seems twice as awful. You might be lonely in your life. (Or not, but alone nonethless) Then you have some or other romance or other social encounters, and when they leave your life, the same aloneness strikes you as that much worse than before... When the days are good, and you run into trouble, you tend to think of those "good days" as that much better.
Do we just distort things? Either way, it is good to remember that our perception of things changes* when we have something else to compare them to. And as for light and dark, goodness, yes. Who doesn't know the deepening of the shadow with the increase in light intensity... So it is.
Thank you for that post!
(((*What is the Difference between what is Reality and our Perception thereof?)))
Never mind the optical quantifications of this, but methinks he really hit onto something beautiful! Any situation is something we get accustomed to over time. But contrast it with a different set of parameters (how do I best express this?) and the same old situation appears more intense than it was before. You may be slightly bored. Something exciting happens, and afterwards the boredom you might return to seems twice as awful. You might be lonely in your life. (Or not, but alone nonethless) Then you have some or other romance or other social encounters, and when they leave your life, the same aloneness strikes you as that much worse than before... When the days are good, and you run into trouble, you tend to think of those "good days" as that much better.
Do we just distort things? Either way, it is good to remember that our perception of things changes* when we have something else to compare them to. And as for light and dark, goodness, yes. Who doesn't know the deepening of the shadow with the increase in light intensity... So it is.
Thank you for that post!
(((*What is the Difference between what is Reality and our Perception thereof?)))
(Not) Defining Myself
He who stands on tiptoe doesn’t stand firm.
He who rushes ahead doesn’t go far.
He who tries to shine dims his own light.
He who defines himself can’t know who he really is.
He who has power over others can’t empower himself.
He who clings to his work will create nothing that endures.
If you want to accord with Tao, just do your job, then let go.
(verse 24, Tao de Djing, from the internet)
He who defines himself can’t know who he really is?!
Well there is a thought. And an answer to a question I have been mulling over for a long time. Defining myself. Not so much in Who am I, but more as in What … No, not true. It is in who am I, but not the inner me, but the when-people-ask-me-what-I-do thing. So maybe it is more a What-am-I thing.
Not defining myself is not a new concept, but I am not entirely satisfied with it. And I would assume it is my ego that wants to define itself. When asked, I say what I do to earn a living, but that is not all I am. And something in me rebels against the limitation of this definition. Many reasons for that. For starters, I am of course much more than that, but I also do not like being boxed in. People ask this question as a part of small talk, a way of making conversation, but mostly to obtain a frame of reference for who you are. I do the same, although I try to be conscious enough not to... As a result I have little to say to people I first meet. Perhaps I should ask people the things I really want to know up front. I. e. what is the most important thing you have ever learned. In Drinking from the Dragon’s Well, Alex Smith asks her English classes in China some very pertinent questions indeed. Inspiring. I should write them out and ask people those questions. Why ever not? (It isn't so acceptable to break these social/conversational rules though...)
As for myself, I should perhaps then continue to give people the easy answer, since that is actually what they are asking for. I must accept that I am not box-able. (Nobody is actually.) Perhaps it is the lack of understanding of myself, that wishes to define myself. At the same time I think about the concept of being empty. And being "empty" to me is like being “no thing”. Being no thing means being all things.
(to be continued...)
May 13, 2010
how different are we from computers?
more and more i liken us to computers. more and more i see the parallels. discovering my new laptop is like discovering me. hardwired programs, administrator access... you better know what you're doing if you're changing stuff. change it right, things work better - change it wrong, and you can conk up the entire system....
but luckily, you can always re-boot the whole damn thing...
and don't confuse files with system...
back up your files, then it is no problem to re-boot the system.
different user log-on's: a healthy type of schizophrenia? on my own laptop i myself use different user settings - to protect myself from me... from any inadvertent damage i could be doing. (hm...)
and then that whole list of keyboard shortcuts... wow... trigger points. and you better know about those too... fortunately on a computer most of them are not accidentally usable, but in the system of me, they are all open access... single button defaults...
disk-cleanup, defragment: is that what we do when we sleep? and maybe it's an entire system overhaul when we die...
how can we get optimal use out of our hard- and our software? most of us don't know that...
sometimes systems are altered and „improved“ too many times. you come back a “virgin” after every complete re-boot. memory whiped out, clean slate. chance to program everything all over. and just maybe, for the fun of it, we put ourselves into different hands each time around to do the innitial programming.
and good if you know your way well enough around any operating system so you can make informed and intelligent choices as far as alterations and personalisations and improvements go. and how much better even to know how to create programs...
perhaps it is weird to think of people as walking computer programs, but it really isn't that far off. physicians, mental and physical, are also but programmers of these systems. and some things work for most systems, many don't... one pill for all... we like to believe it. one answer, one way... our attempt at making something huge, and hugely complex, into something simple, manageable, overseeable.
but time and again we happen upon those sticky little bubbles that don't wanna work that way... find ourselves in places that don't fit the bill. the os goes into overdrive, overheats eventually, shuts down. or it isolates an area - what's the term i'm looking for? out of bounds? zone blablabla? looking for the name of an area like one that is used for missile testing, or that has stuff on it that nobody must know of. these areas become like pockets in our system, pockets in our lives. sometimes not that well (or not at all) integrated.
at some point the hardware gets affected... "ailments" of sorts develop. from small annoying ones, to total system-crash ones... we don't need pills, we need correct programming, and correct system maintenance. maintenance! crucial! updates!...
and not to forget to delete the old versions before installing new ones... hihi ... and yet, what did i learn the other day? a fraction of any program ever installed remains behind... can never be fully deleted... hm... so it is... and so the system clogs up... starts to slow down... ages...
this is just the kind of thing i love to wrap my mind around. exciting.
but luckily, you can always re-boot the whole damn thing...
and don't confuse files with system...
back up your files, then it is no problem to re-boot the system.
different user log-on's: a healthy type of schizophrenia? on my own laptop i myself use different user settings - to protect myself from me... from any inadvertent damage i could be doing. (hm...)
and then that whole list of keyboard shortcuts... wow... trigger points. and you better know about those too... fortunately on a computer most of them are not accidentally usable, but in the system of me, they are all open access... single button defaults...
disk-cleanup, defragment: is that what we do when we sleep? and maybe it's an entire system overhaul when we die...
how can we get optimal use out of our hard- and our software? most of us don't know that...
sometimes systems are altered and „improved“ too many times. you come back a “virgin” after every complete re-boot. memory whiped out, clean slate. chance to program everything all over. and just maybe, for the fun of it, we put ourselves into different hands each time around to do the innitial programming.
and good if you know your way well enough around any operating system so you can make informed and intelligent choices as far as alterations and personalisations and improvements go. and how much better even to know how to create programs...
perhaps it is weird to think of people as walking computer programs, but it really isn't that far off. physicians, mental and physical, are also but programmers of these systems. and some things work for most systems, many don't... one pill for all... we like to believe it. one answer, one way... our attempt at making something huge, and hugely complex, into something simple, manageable, overseeable.
but time and again we happen upon those sticky little bubbles that don't wanna work that way... find ourselves in places that don't fit the bill. the os goes into overdrive, overheats eventually, shuts down. or it isolates an area - what's the term i'm looking for? out of bounds? zone blablabla? looking for the name of an area like one that is used for missile testing, or that has stuff on it that nobody must know of. these areas become like pockets in our system, pockets in our lives. sometimes not that well (or not at all) integrated.
at some point the hardware gets affected... "ailments" of sorts develop. from small annoying ones, to total system-crash ones... we don't need pills, we need correct programming, and correct system maintenance. maintenance! crucial! updates!...
and not to forget to delete the old versions before installing new ones... hihi ... and yet, what did i learn the other day? a fraction of any program ever installed remains behind... can never be fully deleted... hm... so it is... and so the system clogs up... starts to slow down... ages...
this is just the kind of thing i love to wrap my mind around. exciting.
May 11, 2010
Coins and their sides
The world shrouds itself in fog - utterly enchanting.
I watch the sillouette of a swan, a fellow traveler on unknown waters… Though his waters are surely anything but unknown to him.
As for me, I frequently lose the boundaries between the known and the unknown... There may be the familiar and the unfamiliar, but they are two sides of one coin, and I carry that coin in my pocket. In fact, something could be said about these coins with their two sides... and the illusion people give themselves to that they could have just one side of any coin… Or to believe that if you make the one side larger in some way, that the other side should remain the same, or even shrink… yet isn't that precisely what we do?!
I watch the sillouette of a swan, a fellow traveler on unknown waters… Though his waters are surely anything but unknown to him.
As for me, I frequently lose the boundaries between the known and the unknown... There may be the familiar and the unfamiliar, but they are two sides of one coin, and I carry that coin in my pocket. In fact, something could be said about these coins with their two sides... and the illusion people give themselves to that they could have just one side of any coin… Or to believe that if you make the one side larger in some way, that the other side should remain the same, or even shrink… yet isn't that precisely what we do?!
May 10, 2010
Ageing - Living - Dying
My grandmother recently got admitted to an elderly care institution. She is rapidly increasing her memory loss. Dementia. Returning back to being a child. The curious case of Benjamin Button is maybe not that curious after all... The blank look in her eyes so often reminds me of that of a small child totally challenged by the grown up world. The mind searches through its archives for references.
Do we live life in reverse? Is the end the preparation for the beginning. The database in the child has been wiped clear. The very young child may still get these hints of 'I should know this...' or 'This is oddly familiar,' but it can perhaps not access the information. The same look I see in my grandmother's eyes. 'I should know the answer to that question...' But it is lost. Her hard-drive is being gradually cleared.
I wonder about all the people where that process does not happen.
I wonder if those who enter the world kicking and screaming also left it that way.
I always used to think I would like to die in my sleep. The fear of pain being the main reason for wanting to go that way. I have changed my mind on that one. I want to leave with my eyes wide open. I want to be awake. I want to experience every iota of this incredible transition. I imagine it to be something I can not begin to imagine... So I just remain curious...
My mother frequently says now how afraid she is of ageing, or rather of ageing this way. Gradually losing the powers over herself, becoming fragile, senile, maybe a nuisance to the world around her, etc. So I think about this much as well. And it used to scare me too. But now that I witness this process, and since I am not one to settle for living with unresolved fear, I dig until I find freedom, release from the bondage of this fear.
What is it she is really afraid of? The loss of herself. The loss of her identity, her personality, her sense of self and the world she inhabits. And perhaps worst of all that she should be in some way conscious of this loss. We do not know how my grandmother experiences reality. We do not know of how much she is aware within herself. She is sad, she is lonely, and perhaps she is often as utterly disoriented within herself as she is outside.
So this begs the question: who or what are we, or are we not, that we should fear thus?
In the past, and still today in many regions on this globe, generations were born, lived and died under one roof, or at least so close that there always was a close connection between the generations. Growing up, you lived closely to the elderly. You were close when people died. It was all part of the natural cycle of events, and you knew your place within that, naturally. And each age had its value to the community, or the family. Those not able to work and provide were able to look after the household, or the children, or the livestock perhaps.
I am 34 and come from a pretty average European family. I have seen a baby's dipers being changed a maximum of two times in my life. I have not been around children at all for most of my life since I have left childhood. I have equally not been around the elderly, including my grandparents, since I have lived on a different continent to them most of my life.
Yet, I have seen enough to not fear life.
Since the age of 13 I have pondered death and dying. I turned away from life and living to unlock this mystery. At least arrive at a point of understanding, a point of peace with the entire dying thing. I always knew that that would be the only way I would be able to live in some meaningful way. More than 20 years have passed... Am I any wiser for all that time and all that pondering? Doubtful. But I am more at peace. A lot more.
Ageing, as everything else, is a part of life.
But I come from a culture that identifies itself with the body. The physical form is primarily who you are. You then have a soul, or whatever, maybe, but the main focus is on the external form. That is who you are.
So any changes that happen to that external form are changes that happen to “me.” But there is the inner, eternal, changeless you. Even if you do not “believe” that way, and do identify with the flesh, you will still agree that there is an inner person, an inner way of feeling yourself, that is quite independent of much of the outer form. How many people of 80 feel not a day older than 20? That is the norm. I myself feel no age at all. Never have. I cannot easily take it when people treat children like imbeciles, just because they cannot express themselves in our way yet, or maybe because they happen to act out, or whatever. The form is young, the slate only gradually filled, but inside there still is a timeless, ageless “person.”
Well, we can see this as we like, it is not the point I wish to make. It does, however, serve to illustrate why, when certain changes occur to the form, we are so deeply threatened by those. Much of the western issue with ageing is, of course, part of the times we live in. Part of the externally created hype about being and remaining young, youthful, strong, vital, etc. So the discrepancy with this expectation can cause some consternation. But outside of this, it really is that the inner is not changing as the outer is. I still feel myself at the hight of youth, but my body is crumbling away underneath me, so to speak. Things start to ache, things are forgotten that were just a thought away just yesterday. Other things are strenuous that took no effort at all up until when... The changes creep in, unnoticed at first, and then noticed in stark contrast to the image we hold of ourselves.
I see the helplessness in my grandmother with regards to what is going on. I see the same helplessness in my mother as she sits and tells me of her nightmare vision of “ending up” like that.
Can I take her fear? Can I inspire her with some peace? Can I show her how different the world could look if she viewed herself and life from a different angle?
I can. And I do. But it usually does not last much longer than the conversation. She follows my reasoning up to some point, agrees, but tomorrow we can have the same discussion again. (Early sign of dementia? :-) At least we can joke about it...)
I understand her. I have grown up largely in the world she lives in still. I left it early and went on to explore for myself. And I came up with different conclusions. Different explanations. Different points of view.
As far as I am concerned, I am something that any word I could use in any language would only limit. There is no possible word to do justice to what I am. To what we are. But for the sake of writing about it here I shall use the word soul. So I am (a) soul. I incarnate. I manifest this body - however the technicalities work - but I am here on a journey. A journey through this dimension. A journey through the limitations of this physical reality. I sign up for all the joys and pains that it will bring. Most of them brought about through the forgetting of my true nature.
It is no fault in the system that we forget. It is no fault along the journey that we lose our way. It is all a part of it.
It is a part of this journey that certain things happen to the body. It is good that way. Everything, including all the things we wish would not happen, have their rightful place in existence. They have something of benefit for whoever is involved.
So for me, if it is part of this particular journey of mine that, as I age and grow old, I lose my memory, lose my sense of self, lose my ability to care for myself, etc., than that is what I have come here to experience. And that is not something to fear. Like a role you play on a stage in a play. If you play the cripple, the murderer, the crazy person, or whoever, you do not generally lose sleep over that. In all likelihood you signed up for the part. Or you couldn't get the one you wanted, so this is the next best thing. But you do not forget who you are, thus you go on stage, play your part to the best of your ability, create an illusion for some period of time for those who are watching, and then it is back to the self you know yourself to be.
For me, living in this body, in this world, at this time, is no different. Only I have kind of forgotten who I really am. The more I remember, however, the easier many things get. (There is another side to that coin, and that is that I often fail to see the point in things that mean much to many, and need to remind myself that the point is now for me to choose, to create if you will... Everything is rather transparent, and it makes much of the games we play rather pointless...)
I can move with greater lightness through the kaleidoscope of life. I can observe with some detachment. I will get involved, attached, as everybody else, but again and again I “surface,” and see that I got lost in the play. Perhaps the best actors are those that get lost in the play for the duration of the play. Thus they act with such conviction. For that time they do forget who they are outside the character they are portraying. But they come out of it.
And so do we. Latest at the moment of crossing over to the proverbial “other shore.”
So may these words lend comfort and hope to anyone in need of it.
Blessings from the land of the living.
Ouroborus Lux
Do we live life in reverse? Is the end the preparation for the beginning. The database in the child has been wiped clear. The very young child may still get these hints of 'I should know this...' or 'This is oddly familiar,' but it can perhaps not access the information. The same look I see in my grandmother's eyes. 'I should know the answer to that question...' But it is lost. Her hard-drive is being gradually cleared.
I wonder about all the people where that process does not happen.
I wonder if those who enter the world kicking and screaming also left it that way.
I always used to think I would like to die in my sleep. The fear of pain being the main reason for wanting to go that way. I have changed my mind on that one. I want to leave with my eyes wide open. I want to be awake. I want to experience every iota of this incredible transition. I imagine it to be something I can not begin to imagine... So I just remain curious...
My mother frequently says now how afraid she is of ageing, or rather of ageing this way. Gradually losing the powers over herself, becoming fragile, senile, maybe a nuisance to the world around her, etc. So I think about this much as well. And it used to scare me too. But now that I witness this process, and since I am not one to settle for living with unresolved fear, I dig until I find freedom, release from the bondage of this fear.
What is it she is really afraid of? The loss of herself. The loss of her identity, her personality, her sense of self and the world she inhabits. And perhaps worst of all that she should be in some way conscious of this loss. We do not know how my grandmother experiences reality. We do not know of how much she is aware within herself. She is sad, she is lonely, and perhaps she is often as utterly disoriented within herself as she is outside.
So this begs the question: who or what are we, or are we not, that we should fear thus?
In the past, and still today in many regions on this globe, generations were born, lived and died under one roof, or at least so close that there always was a close connection between the generations. Growing up, you lived closely to the elderly. You were close when people died. It was all part of the natural cycle of events, and you knew your place within that, naturally. And each age had its value to the community, or the family. Those not able to work and provide were able to look after the household, or the children, or the livestock perhaps.
I am 34 and come from a pretty average European family. I have seen a baby's dipers being changed a maximum of two times in my life. I have not been around children at all for most of my life since I have left childhood. I have equally not been around the elderly, including my grandparents, since I have lived on a different continent to them most of my life.
Yet, I have seen enough to not fear life.
Since the age of 13 I have pondered death and dying. I turned away from life and living to unlock this mystery. At least arrive at a point of understanding, a point of peace with the entire dying thing. I always knew that that would be the only way I would be able to live in some meaningful way. More than 20 years have passed... Am I any wiser for all that time and all that pondering? Doubtful. But I am more at peace. A lot more.
Ageing, as everything else, is a part of life.
But I come from a culture that identifies itself with the body. The physical form is primarily who you are. You then have a soul, or whatever, maybe, but the main focus is on the external form. That is who you are.
So any changes that happen to that external form are changes that happen to “me.” But there is the inner, eternal, changeless you. Even if you do not “believe” that way, and do identify with the flesh, you will still agree that there is an inner person, an inner way of feeling yourself, that is quite independent of much of the outer form. How many people of 80 feel not a day older than 20? That is the norm. I myself feel no age at all. Never have. I cannot easily take it when people treat children like imbeciles, just because they cannot express themselves in our way yet, or maybe because they happen to act out, or whatever. The form is young, the slate only gradually filled, but inside there still is a timeless, ageless “person.”
Well, we can see this as we like, it is not the point I wish to make. It does, however, serve to illustrate why, when certain changes occur to the form, we are so deeply threatened by those. Much of the western issue with ageing is, of course, part of the times we live in. Part of the externally created hype about being and remaining young, youthful, strong, vital, etc. So the discrepancy with this expectation can cause some consternation. But outside of this, it really is that the inner is not changing as the outer is. I still feel myself at the hight of youth, but my body is crumbling away underneath me, so to speak. Things start to ache, things are forgotten that were just a thought away just yesterday. Other things are strenuous that took no effort at all up until when... The changes creep in, unnoticed at first, and then noticed in stark contrast to the image we hold of ourselves.
I see the helplessness in my grandmother with regards to what is going on. I see the same helplessness in my mother as she sits and tells me of her nightmare vision of “ending up” like that.
Can I take her fear? Can I inspire her with some peace? Can I show her how different the world could look if she viewed herself and life from a different angle?
I can. And I do. But it usually does not last much longer than the conversation. She follows my reasoning up to some point, agrees, but tomorrow we can have the same discussion again. (Early sign of dementia? :-) At least we can joke about it...)
I understand her. I have grown up largely in the world she lives in still. I left it early and went on to explore for myself. And I came up with different conclusions. Different explanations. Different points of view.
As far as I am concerned, I am something that any word I could use in any language would only limit. There is no possible word to do justice to what I am. To what we are. But for the sake of writing about it here I shall use the word soul. So I am (a) soul. I incarnate. I manifest this body - however the technicalities work - but I am here on a journey. A journey through this dimension. A journey through the limitations of this physical reality. I sign up for all the joys and pains that it will bring. Most of them brought about through the forgetting of my true nature.
It is no fault in the system that we forget. It is no fault along the journey that we lose our way. It is all a part of it.
It is a part of this journey that certain things happen to the body. It is good that way. Everything, including all the things we wish would not happen, have their rightful place in existence. They have something of benefit for whoever is involved.
So for me, if it is part of this particular journey of mine that, as I age and grow old, I lose my memory, lose my sense of self, lose my ability to care for myself, etc., than that is what I have come here to experience. And that is not something to fear. Like a role you play on a stage in a play. If you play the cripple, the murderer, the crazy person, or whoever, you do not generally lose sleep over that. In all likelihood you signed up for the part. Or you couldn't get the one you wanted, so this is the next best thing. But you do not forget who you are, thus you go on stage, play your part to the best of your ability, create an illusion for some period of time for those who are watching, and then it is back to the self you know yourself to be.
For me, living in this body, in this world, at this time, is no different. Only I have kind of forgotten who I really am. The more I remember, however, the easier many things get. (There is another side to that coin, and that is that I often fail to see the point in things that mean much to many, and need to remind myself that the point is now for me to choose, to create if you will... Everything is rather transparent, and it makes much of the games we play rather pointless...)
I can move with greater lightness through the kaleidoscope of life. I can observe with some detachment. I will get involved, attached, as everybody else, but again and again I “surface,” and see that I got lost in the play. Perhaps the best actors are those that get lost in the play for the duration of the play. Thus they act with such conviction. For that time they do forget who they are outside the character they are portraying. But they come out of it.
And so do we. Latest at the moment of crossing over to the proverbial “other shore.”
So may these words lend comfort and hope to anyone in need of it.
Blessings from the land of the living.
Ouroborus Lux
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