I come to it late today. Feeling the heaviness of a day well spent, and the echoes of its elation it the sibilant sounds of the keys tap tapping as I pour out my soul.
Much have I mused on what I might say. And nothing arose to claim a place, so I write for you now totally naked. Utterly vulnerable. For I can do nothing but surrender to the words that wish to come, aware that there are things to be shared, whether now or in their perfect time, that parts of me find shameful, are terrified to share, lest you love me less, lest you smirk and move on.
And as I drop into a gentle state of enquiry…what is it that fears so? What of me…and therefore, of course, what of you. What parts do we share that so crave validation we will invalidate the whisper of our soul just to let the mind have its mellow way.
I have been listening to some truly fantastic (and I mean this in a number of senses of the word) discourses by the late Joseph Chilton Pearce, who was truly a pioneer of so much, so much of what we might like the world to be Joseph helped to map the territory, wearing lightly an intellect that was astounding in its range and precision, and which, perhaps more importantly, was led by a heart so suffused with love and warmth, so passionate, so delightful, it is impossible not to listen without a regular smile playing across my lips.
I touched on my reasons for exploring Joseph’s work in the previous blog. He gave me the example of the Sri Lankan devotees who will walk 40ft lanes of coals so hot that aluminium melts on touch, without a single hair on their heads being singed. More than this though, and without explicitly articulating it, at least in the discourses I heard, Joseph gave voice to the imbalance that (I believe) threatens to tear apart our existence from within.
It appears to boil down to which of the multitude of stories being created and continued right now do we wish to be a part of?
A story where those we endow with the privilege of governing the systems that (at the moment) are essential for the mass of human kind to enjoy healthy and happy existence, choose to take advantage of acts of atrocity, both real and fake, to further a hideously myopic agenda that can fairly accurately be summed up as: “The rich get richer, the poor lump it and do the grunt work.”
I do not wish to leave this topic. It feels as though we have half-pulled off a plaster. However, with my eyelids closing on me mid sentence and a paragraph now taking at least 6 mins to write…it is only fair to you and to me that we pick up this thread tomorrow.
Wishing you love until then.