Wednesday, June 29, 2016


Yesterday night as I went to bed, I really planed on taking an early morning jog to start my day out. The alarm on my phone rang at 5:30 am, than at 6 am and on both occasions I was startled by the sound. Later at 7 am my alarm clock set the radio off, but I silenced it without looking. I can find the right button to do that even on a single try with my eyes closed... special survival skills on a grumpy morning, I call it.

So when at 8 I finally found myself sitting on the side of the bed, with the summer heat suffocatingly thick in the bedroom already, I finally accepted that jogging would have to be postponed. As I was brewing freshly ground coffee, the air around me so enchanted, and my bare feet on the floor so grounded, I heard a scream. Than a long cry.

The balcony door was wide open, sounds can easily come and leave as they fancy.

The woman's cry reminded me of the night my father's dad died. I can hardly find anything more scary as that night in my life. Not because of what happened. {Time passes, and as we gain more experience in life some of the things, as painful as they may be, are more easily accepted as a fact of life and an important step for progress and evolution.} But for my reaction to that which had happened.

As I sat down with a cup full a coffee in between the palm of my hands I closed my eyes, to send her love for whatever sadness made her lungs push such a sound out of her. Immediately after, a male voice. Angry. Aggressive. And out of control. My eyes opened wide. I stood up. Went to the balcony in an attempt to localize the source of these dreadful sounds. It came from my building, that much I could hear, but I couldn't make out which apartment. I entered the living room again.
My hands were shaking. I am rarely this vulnerable over something that is in many ways not my personal experience. There is a whole world living on in my heart, but it is usually not reflected physically. And yet, there I was, standing on the cold kitchen tiles reaching for the tap.

That deep feeling of powerlessness took hold of me and I felt such resistance to it, I was trembling.

A door somewhere far in the building slammed; the cry continued. My first thought was: I hope he'll be run over by a truck. Then a few tears ran down hastily on my cheeks. Immediately followed by a feeling of relief, a peaceful calming sigh which instantly eliminated within my soul even the last bit of resentment and resistance.

Heliophile. You. Me. All of us. We are all like a bunch of sunflowers on a beautiful yellow colored field. Our souls never cease turning to the light even when our human experience turns us away from it, and the guidance within never ceases to guide us back to our true, loving nature. Nothing else will ever do.

I despised this man a few moments earlier deeply.
Isn't it surprising how we have this burning desire to bring change about and yet we so often find ourselves giving our entire attention to that which we wish to diminish?
And despite hating him just a moment earlier, my heart filled, so naturally and effortlessly with love I could barely contain myself. He completely exited my awareness. Love towards her took his place entirely. Love toward the moment she is building up to through these experiences in order to make the necessary changes in her own life. Love and hopefulness, clear and distinguishable energy of freedom, that is about to emerge through these unwanted experiences in her life. The more intense the contrast in life, the stronger the desire for and the call toward that which is wanted.

If we are indeed co-creating the world through our emotions (and we are), then we must choose them wisely. And thankfully there will always be situations that will help us redirect our focus, and will guide us towards the crossroad of essentially two choices. We can focus on what we don't want and build a shrine for it through hatred, guilt, fear and all the likes of such feelings, or we can choose to keep that which we want to see in the world in our undivided attention and unconditional love.

And as much as we all like walking down that latter road, we at times still hastily start out by rushing down the first one. Yet I am ever so grateful to have shaking hands and a trembling heart to oh so obviously show me that I am going in the wrong direction. We all have an inner guidance, a pull, that no matter how far we wander off in the opposing direction, it will eventually turn us back towards the "sun".

No comments:

Post a Comment

I ♥ comments!