The first thing I want to say, again, is Thank You. I can't say it enough. Today I am thanking all of you who wrote me (privately) to extend (alternately or both) worry & support & yes, more couches. It is really lovely to be loved & I appreciate & love you all back . . (&, although I know I encourage & promote intimacy, I also encourage you to leave some of your comments HERE, just to get some dialogue going, but I know, all in it's own time, my loves.)
You know I am fine, of course. As I said yesterday, I signed up for this & I also signed up to help all of you through your own trials with fear & growth, to the best of my ability & also all in it's own time. We all signed up to be here, just by being born, here, together. I dream of being pulled forward, doors opening, planes taking off . . . . The other night Nola dreamed that there were whales swimming up to her 4th floor window. I know enough about what is going on to know it is opportunity & truly a privilege to go from this side to the other. I also know that there is absolutely no way, right now, for any of us to know what is next, it is beyond any experiences with trial & error, cause & effect, action & reaction, that we all have known in the past, the answers to many of our questions now are simply out of the realm of our experience so far.
Scary? Maybe. Sometimes I feel like I am being pulled through a sieve and, as I was saying, it hurts. I have been told I am whimpering like a baby in my sleep lately, as I dream of flying then falling then flying again. Scary but so exciting, really, & what a relief to not know the answers, cause I really don't have them &, I bet, neither do you . . . we just need to take as good care of ourselves & each other & keep the vehicles light, don't carry too much.
I have been to a bunch of indoor ceremonies this winter ~ the wild, snowy & blustery winter it has been (& the wild, blustery series of ceremonies it has been, everywhere it seems). A lot of the time is spent praying, hard, for a rudder, for grounding, if only to plunge deeper, to be more essential & more honest. There have been several ceremonies where the sound of wind has been so loud in the room, times when, although I knew better, I actually thought the building might be blown apart, ala Wizard of Oz, or some kind of metaphysical tsunami, that strong. Just like in the rest of my life, as much as I kick & scream, I love a strong prayer that comes from (the feeling) of losing everything, of total vulnerability. That's when I really ask for help & that's when I really take action & that's when I really, really listen.
In these indoor ceremonies, in lofts in Brooklyn, apartments in Harlem, in lovely ranch houses in Southern California, in temples in upstate New York, I have this habit of staring at the light fixture while I pray, like God lives there. It feels so good, like a magnet, it doesn't matter if it is off or on, it anchors me. I also giggle a little when I notice it, but there I go again, every time, madly in love with the electrical connection.
"When a person says "Oh Lord," it is not anything beyond you; you are extending outside, but the reaction is happening inside . . you think you are praying to the heavens but it is you who are changing.
The state of compassion or compassionate meditation is the activity of God in a human wherever they are, whatever they are. It has no color, caste, creed, religion . . . Sometime just sit down like this and ask yourself, "Am I pure or not?" You are pretending you are not pure. If you honestly ask yourself, you will be surprised that you are pretending to be impure. You are pretending. Why? Because you don't like the responsibility. You are holy: you don't want to be known as holy, because then everyone has the right to criticize you, and you don't want to be criticized. Everyone wants to sneak into holiness and then withdraw, and we still want things to happen . . . "
~ Yogi Bhajan