Awareness plus compassion gives Choice.
Three of us are ANGRY now, a furious miserable anger- everything could have been alright, and it Can’t be, now, at least not that simple and instant way. Our anger can create nothing: anger with ourselves- I/she could/should, anger with the weak fool we care for. There is no point in being angry. And yet we are, and we niggle at each other. Mourning the loss of possibilities.
On facebook, I see a Nelson Mandela quote: As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison. Well, yes. Er, how?
I need to let this feeling go, but not deny it; I need to accept it and myself in the World- this happens, and more is possible.
Oh, that exercise is so potent. Choose someone in the group, and look into their eyes. The trouble is that the other person may have chosen someone else; and others may also have chosen her.
Memory is not trustworthy. I remember S being in conflict with a colleague, and wanting her sacked because she was useless, and worried that the colleague would complain about S, because S had failed with some trivial matter. I learned this in conversation about two years ago. And now, S has a colleague who does not pull her weight and gets bogged down in unnecessary matters, but has no idea of any fight or particular problem in the past. So, “I did”, “I said”, excuses and reasons and justifications, have no value or reality: they cannot change the situation now, and they might never have existed.
Then, say to that person: The essence I see in you is… The way you express it is… Some of us are not chosen, and I almost ignore the one who chose me, and cannot speak to the one I chose as others are speaking to her. So, again give up. This illustrates my patterns so beautifully.
I say my piece in the group share. The essence I see in you is charisma, the way you express it is Being. Then Menis asks, and how do you see yourself. I wanted to explain, and he would not let me- shell and vulnerable bit within, centre of the Universe and Worthless; and he would not let me. So I speak from my vulnerable bit, my authentic self.
I am fragile, beautiful, loveable. I am a Survivor. I am safe. I am OK as I am, and I am just beginning to enjoy it!
Others have other words for me, seeing my courage, strength, patience and love. This is what to remember. And- I see something in another, because it is in me.
We mill, face people in turn. We imagine that they are someone from our past, and say something to that person for closure.
Mum, I hold your hand rather than reading, at your deathbed.
Dad, our femininity is OK.
The woman I loved, who terrified me, thank you for all you taught me.
The man I used to be, it will be alright. All your feelings are OK.
The cure for my anger is hope.