Revisiting/revising my suffering. Did it ever end? Perhaps it is now reconciled in old age when everything becomes simpler; the last things in life. Of that which I covet freedom fearing the loss is independence and one of the two sources of distress invaded my home today and I did not kill him. Instead I ignored his greeting, calling me Jack, after promising myself that I would in turn say; "To you that is too familiar from henceforth call me Mr. Spratt; or call me nothing but leave me in peace.
It would be, for me, admonishing a snake once bitten and dying. Of death, though I cannot remember the specifics, genders, creeds or proclivities; I retain a sense of empathy derived from experience. Each of us is on a journey, the path is not obvious unless you have settled on an addiction to money, sex, religion or some other excuse for arising the next dawn.
The man invaded my shelter, of course he presumes it is his to guard from my sloth, pests, pets, etc. He, like she who, brought me to the departure points from which I have learned to take better care of myself and environment--I've been praying for both of them--ending in what harm could I cause to someone so self-abusive? The profit to me is a better life because of them; more methodical and better organized/focused. It was well past time to move along. Possibly better,occurring now, I sense my mothers William Blake like and mystical reference to being no more significant than a grain of sand in the desert filled with those like me.
Humility begins with humiliation; I have an advanced degree. To the extent of becoming nothing and no one save for my love of all others whose lives and wounded hearts need healing. It is not I or anyone specific. I could, but refuse to, attribute my health and emotional sobriety to Jesus or God since to do so, in this culture, I would offend my friends of other definitions of God.
It is clever to say; "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Yet, sincerely, I had no Lemonade Stand nor glasses or cups or ice and no will to do so being nothing to myself.
Being Here Now was worth everything endured. All my prayers, longings, dreams and lack of weeping have become part of the solution. It seems to me now that all the "don't you want to "Be's" were delusions, worse, prisons and poisons implying suicide. Or at the very best; a greater suffering than the balm of applause, admiration or all the money in the universe could salve.
Once I would save that I was never "between a rock and a hard place." Then follow on with the thesis, in abstraction never fully understood, that all the wounds of my heart were meant to forge me into an instrument of peace; not vengeance. Never blame.
Yet the knowledge; the experience; in different ways and places; other people as artist making me this moment more willingly accepted or submitted to; is still surprising and without expectation willing to take more of such life is left for me for those of you who must heal yourselves. Anything less is dependence, avoidance, idolatry and cult. Rumi said it best and I'll close with his clue:
"Learn the alchemy that few human beings know, that when you accept what difficulties you have been given, a door opens."
"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."
. . . remember please that what happened or will happen is nothing to you as your are having yourself self defined in death will be had in love by God.
Own yourself.
121012 21:25 Being Loved
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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