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Unity holds Polarity
There is a wave of expansion that seems increasingly obvious and available, and just as subtle and profound for people of all ages. A movement from the small, grasping identities of the ego to the quiet warmth of the true and timeless Self. In this knowing as peace, as presence, there is no one identity to hold the beauty of experience or reject the horrors of life. There is simply the infinite, open, and love infused Awareness allowing these experiences to intimately rise and fall. The Self holds the mystery of the human experience with such spaciousness that the natural qualities we are, are free to rise in its wake. And a freedom to genuinely be whatever shows up in this new day. This seems so important as we are exposed to the great, grave challenges for people on the planet as we FEEL their suffering. In horror, some of us can feel it as if it is our own, trauma memories ignited out of the past of our family lineages. While challenging, there is great freedom in first receiving the heart break that this information triggers from a body/somatic perspective. Meaning, allowing the felt sense of heart break with skillful means for it is infused with the inexhaustible nature of unconditional care. The Earth world is a domain of duality, while pure consciousness itself is unified, expressing in polarity. When the unified consciousness of peace witnesses the human play of consciousness of war and surrender for example, we are not swayed into duality. The peace that I am sees the interplay of peace in the acts of war and surrender. Not one or the other, but as my Nonna used to say, ‘both three of you!” And this both/three of you in turn allows for greater insight into acknowledging other plays of consciousness such as power, sovereignty, and a crisis of mercy. This knowledge, put into action, carries gravitas and wisdom. As polarities increase in dramatic ways whether it be the weather, governments, or in families, there is an invitation to honor both the beauty and the beast as a play of consciousness begging for visibility. For example, if I am only beauty, then I benefit greatly from exploring the beast energy in my system to discover true authenticity. And, if I am only identified as the beast, then I benefit greatly from exploring the energy of beauty so to discover discernment. This beast is most often self-loathing, self-blame, and often shame, guilt and the voice of condemnation, doubt, and critique. These expressions are not authentic to who we are truly, however they need to be seen and honored for they have a big, big role in the building of the identity project often from mother and father wounds experienced as a young child. Now here is the interesting part. A child cannot ever recognize or blame a parent for unmet needs so from a survival perspective, they must blame themselves instead. It is my fault that my parents are getting divorced, therefore I am to blame, am bad, wrong, unlovable. I failed. Herein lies what is called innocent arrogance and a loyalty to holding ourselves in our unworthiness. Unacknowledged this badness will project outwardly onto another as a blame for their unworthiness, their badness when, in fact, our own internal system is polarized. So, circling back, when the essential Self welcomes the energy of badness – the beast – then the nervous and attachment systems relax. The inward and outward projections subside and finally it is possible to bear reality. Bearing reality starts within our own internal constructs. Clearly the more that our own polarized internal reality is allowed, then in turn we can allow and respond to the collective polarization with even greater compassion and expertise.
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Once upon a country time there was a teeny, tiny female bunny rabbit. She grew up enjoying a very carefree life, moving from bush to tree to hole to den, romping here and there with utter innocence and abandon. As such, she was never quite prepared for the bigger things in life. And when those oh so big things did happen, she instinctively reacted by freezing, holding her breath, and reacting from her tender, startled state.
This bunny was forced to make just a couple of big decisions in her short life, frankly, without leaning into the long vision of karma as short shortsightedness was her virtue. One was the decision to get married to her very first male mate after finding out that she was going to have a baby. Well, this was a quick decision born out of necessity. Yet despite the imminent need for nesting, this mama bunny continued to meander, even without her mate, right up until the very day that her baby decided it was time to be born. The problem was that this was one month earlier than mama expected so she just ran in circles fretting and afraid. The baby bunny was ready and exuberant, deeply wanting a warm, warm welcome into this big, bunny world. A welcome that would be just as fierce as her readiness to live! But poor Mama bunny was too distraught, too unready, too uncertain. The baby bunny was marinating in the mama’s atmosphere of unreadiness and inner confusion, beginning to question the timing of her own arrival. So once the baby was born, she too was stunned, frozen, wide eyed, and in the thick of not trusting herself. Not trusting her arrival into life, doubtful of her choices, and feeling like an utter failure, all for arriving without her mother’s readiness. For after her birth, mother continued to meander sometimes leaving her baby behind. As doubt and uncertainty grew, so did her inability to make choices, and the need to make everything rational and logical. She lost her natural, carefree bunny state and became very careful, always asking questions from other bunnies who were honest enough to deflect her questions and hop away. She even had a bunny hysterectomy – that is a real thing – so that she would not bring a baby into her own inner world of uncertainty. So, one day, this loss of connection with trust, intuitive knowing, and her body, got the best of little bunny. She could finally see that her whole connection to mama bunny was through this code of doubt and not knowing as over time mama and baby vied for power by letting each other know what they thought was best for the other. Oh, this often led to long silent pauses filled with fatigue and resentment. The burdens had indeed become too great. Yet, the baby knew that if she defied this way of being, she would break her loyal connection with mom! She must defy her silent agreement with her mama and become her own mature and sovereign self before it’s too late! So, the not so baby bunny wisely asked her grandmother to please, please give her permission and blessing to live life differently. Differently than all the previous baby bunnies before her so that she could live in the certainty of her own deep knowing, making timely choices and decisions without feelings of guilt or doubt. And grandmother did – from her heart she did!! She wished her granddaughter bunny a new way of being in the whole, wide world and the not so little baby bunny took this into her heart. She turned to gaze upon her mother, grandmother, and previous bunny relatives appreciating the way they had learned to cope, survive, and live for eons and eons. She could take that too into her heart with gratitude and appreciation, and still become her own bunny self with a new way of being in the big, bunny world. It wasn’t too late after all. A vision of a silver band with gold inside set upon my forehead. There was a ray of bright light shining from infinity through the circle at my third eye or sun point, straight to the base of the skull, the moon point, one and infinitely wed.
From beyond a figure ever so slowly glided along the shaft of light connected through his sun and moon points too. He gently landed his third eye to mine, me, and the Christ. We floated in the cosmos in soft connection, our white robes growing in length out to the sides with each breath, whispering and moving with grace. Just like the transparent wind, his body moved through mine until we were moon point to moon point, the backs of our heads touching, revealing and reviving what feels like a massive rift in humanity’s intimacy with love and suffering. With a swift and precise movement, He swirled around stamping, branding my third eye with the symbol, the seal. It moved into my body and slowly down, around my spine landing at the base of the tail bone. Here it synched in, a gentle clasp, taking residence at the core of my Being creating a clear and undeniable connection to the inner Eye shining for no one to see and the invitation for everyone to feel. Interpretation: I have often said that we as humans have an inherent allergy to feeling the so-called challenging emotions. That we are designed to shut these energies down so often that ultimately, they become sequestered to an area of the body, an organ, a muscle, a deep contraction in the belly. The consequence of this denial is massive for the body/mind. The evolution of humans depends on our growing capacity to hold personal and collective suffering from the perspective of love. The real change starts here. Not to project our suffering through hate and blame, but to be with the depth of our despair, rage, or shame with unconditional care. It is possible. If not, then from this denied suffering we need to be saved by some outside source or do something to get rid of it. Which we cannot. It is only through encountering grief that we emerge with an open heart. Through feeling despair that we reunite with joy. Through shame that we recognize our inherent innocence. They are indeed intermingled in a way that allowing grief becomes a blessing that we can actually live with, for in its denial, we shunt the will to live or transform. The initiation of unconditional love is ours to behold. You are that; the immensity of it. And this is the aspect, the perspective from which allowing all experience to flow is best held so that we can not just survive, but thrive. My ears hear.
But, from the deep silence within, my body listens. Free from minds fixing, comparison, or judging. The body is the landscape for intimacy and space. Within the family atmosphere of emotional breadcrumbs, shame is often hidden in plain view, unclaimed and unrecognized.
It disguises as self-sabotage and disgust through projection onto others, often coupled with hate, rage, or fear. Or it needs perfectionism, control, or pleasing as its savior. Only the child in this bubble of unclaimed shame does feel its anguish and will valiantly claim it as personally his. From the unconscious perspective of the child, if they own the shame, they can at least try to fix it. This shame ultimately takes the form of a core inadequacy belief that demands: I am shameful, unworthy, wrong, bad, unlovable, or broken. But this shame was never the childs to begin with! And taking it on never works anyway. Ever. Instead, the child grows up feeling responsible for fixing their parents health or well-being. The adult child grows to feel that they know better than their parents. And they embark on a lifetime of self-improvement seeking peace or resolve. And we often get caught in a viscous cycle where we shame the parts that feel shame. We reject the parts that feel rejected. We feel anger toward the part of ourselves that is angry! All to keep the feeling at a safe distance. It is energetically inefficient to pile affirmations on top of this state. It must be felt and allowed, with the space of the silent, conscious, awake, aware Self, preferably with another nervous system. In this way we can give shame its place in the evolving consciousness of not only our family, but humanity at large. Working with Mother and Father Wounds can bring peace to generations. There is historic value in the heart closing when it needs to so to protect from overwhelm and flooding in the nervous system. Ideally not permanently or entirely, but just enough to regulate. The human heart can certainly develop to remain more open, but by design, contracts to regulate emotional pain, especially when combined with shock or any sympathetic response.
If the mind judges or has learned to exclude, ignore, deny the pain of loneliness for example, the heart closes to the feeling itself. This closing in turn gets projected as excluding or shutting out another person or perhaps a situation so that we do not have to feel the lonliness. These feelings are indeed called exiles and they often show up under distress. From a spiritual or survival perspective both, it seems obvious that to deny these feelings, hate them, hide them, spiritualize them is best. But from an integrative perspective, these feelings must be included. So, when the human heart is flooded with the very human feeling of loneliness, it is the awake, aware Consciousness perfumed with true, unconditional care that gives space for the feeling to move and be experienced. The ‘victim’ in the persona cannot hold loneliness, it can only react to it thereby reinforcing the crisis of loneliness. The ‘pleaser’ or ‘fixer’ in the persona cannot allow shame, it can only manipulate the environment to stay safe. When the shift happens from identity to Self-energy, we wake up and wake down. The unbiased and unthreatened consciousness gives space to any feeling so then the body can do what it is designed to – feel and rebalance in its wake. This in turn awakens the higher heart – the unconditional heart – and allows inherent qualities to rise naturally. Qualities such as connection, compassion, freedom, or authority. Waking down is when the untethered awake, aware consciousness holds the myriad of knots in our body/mind that correspond with beliefs, opinions, and emotions. From the eastern philosophy of energy anatomy our bodies hold seven lifetimes of karma. The psychonaut sees that there is plenty of information to work with in our own bodies so simply recovering from a crisis is nowhere near the whole of the work. The smallest of triggers can be a trailhead to personal and collective restrictions in consciousness. The journey of waking down is following these trailheads to release deeper and deeper holding patterns, associated with beliefs and feelings, so to relax even more naturally as our true nature. In this we see that as the heart opens and closes, we can use this as an opportunity to hold the parts that are defensive, insulted, grieving or angry. And each time this is held we simultaneously become more of our natural Self and embrace our humanity too. Floating in the cosmos of All, hovering between two ethereal dimensions.
Standing on the inside edge of a gold lined, silver wedding band. The archetype and I took turns leaning into one dimension, then the other. Spiraling into the reality of both, hand in hand. We danced the evolution of slow, pivotal movement, finally dissolving separation. Blended in both worlds, a new one emerging, Me and this lover, unified in direction. We floated gently onto fragile land, Surrounded by one pointed intention. In the world, but not entirely of it, The universe thinking through us as personal perception. Still held in the physiology of love’s knowing. I am the vine, and you are the branches. Purpose, with no agenda. Direction, with no requirements, Home in and out, we uncover authenticity in our dance. Here the play of patterns abounds, Where waves of denied distress must rise, Aware and pristinely welcomed, and felt, Emptiness and love cleverly re-found. The masculine merging with the bliss of love, The feminine merging with the purity of power, The perfumes of free conscious awareness Take a priestly bow to the mud and the lotus flower. The blue, blue butterfly really loved ‘cozy’: Bread making, nest making, decorations, and scents that feel like safety and home. In her young youth she looked about and innocently equated being married as her only way to create this dream, perhaps to a capable, male monarch. This way she could play her warm, fuzzy part and make and admire art all around the world! This, she knew, would feed her Soul.
The butterfly had two blue babies and time with her mate, succumbing to his temper, losing herself, while he was in control. She felt trapped in second place, merged in subservience, tolerant of his endless charades and winged patrol. But her second place was not to her monarch; it was in denial of her full adult butterfly self. The child butterfly who wanted a fantasy of dreams had led her life in full flight long enough, and the burdens were now too great. For one day, through her blue butterfly anger she saw that it was easier to be mad at him than herself! She saw her projection and turned inward sensing the anger as a call for a great need. The need for a greater perspective! The need to move beyond her tenaciously persistent and younger dream. Not angry at her male monarch but welcoming of innocent fantasy for a sacred sort of safety. In Blue’s story it is helpful to know that when she was a little one, her Daddy monarch could not show up for her nomad family. She and her Mama lived a life of poverty and wishful thinking, wanting to be higher on the social ladder, cultured and smart. They created a way out from, and a denial of, the nagging lack of warmth or luxury. Her best friends’ parents were married, and they went on big trips together, coming home to share their memories and mementos. How blue longed for a depth of beauty in life. So much that she would absolutely be willing to trade in independence and authenticity for a taste of such richness. She did not leave her mate for as the Monarch experienced blue’s shift, shift so did he! He no longer felt responsible for his wife’s younger parts subservience, and he could relax too, appreciating her soulful love of art. He loved that she could fly with their two blue, blue babies all the way to Italy to admire classical art and architecture. He loved that they would fly back home too and share their adventures with him. The Work: Merging is real in the dance of subservience and dominance, one lending itself to the other in equal doses. This can be played out in extremes in the complex realm of sex, communities, governments, and our own living room. Below the fight for independence and authenticity are layers of unconscious, complex agreements made and kept so to maintain safety and belonging often coupled with a deep need for appreciation. This too plays out in the larger world in ways that render disbelief. In this work, rather than keeping the unconscious agreement fighting in defense, demanding honor, celebration, or appreciation we boldly meet each layer with open curiosity allowing a deeper rest and release. And we may need to visit these layers a hundred times or more. And it would be completely worth it. I have seen this prideful form of demanding in couples for example, where honor is lost in waves of resentment, easier to be angry at the partner than to face our own conditioning. However, in knowing this, do I choose to take a personal interest in releasing layers of unconscious beliefs so I may vibrate with an uncomplicated, pure sense of honor and power? Or do I remain loyal to a mishandled range of contempt or rage? I say, do it for ‘you’ first because that means doing it for all. There was a pair of two wild tigers living on one side of the river banks deep in central India with their tigress cub. As part of their quotidian routine, they walked their baby riverside taking that time to train and teach her. She discovered her silent and stealth tiger ways on these walks as she periodically turned her head toward her parents for approval. In unison, both parents would slowly nod ‘yes’ so that she would grow to know her place and power.
One day during their walk there was a streak of tigers on the other side of the river. A family with two cubs vocalizing these terrifying noises like grunting, growling, snarling and roaring! And more terrifying still when they ran toward the bank of the river to fiercely protect their side. Mama tigress heard these noises like a cacophony of deafening threats and began to shake. Her greatest fear would be to witness her young being mauled by other tigers with nothing she could do. The helplessness was beyond frightening and all she could do was quicken the pace on her side of the river to get ahead of the crew on the other side. Her male escort became super irritated with her fear, knowing that he could protect them if need be and secretly knowing that the litter across the way would not cross the water. As this was something the tigress knew nothing of, her fearful response seemed unnecessary to him, and annoying. But he, in turn, did not know that she had witnessed a deadly mauling years before their union that crept out of her memories in moments like these. Memories that made her shake to the core. The prey, predator response is big in these animals as the possibility of being prey meant doing something to survive or else. So, the tiger reproached the tigress for her reactive fear diminishing her to a freeze response, silent and quasi- immobile. She could still quicken her pace, enough to short cut their way back to the lair with her young. She remained like this for several hours, the length of time it takes to flush the adrenaline and all the physical changes that happen from deep inside her tiger brain to the muscles of her strong legs. Only after all were safely home in their den could she speak without fear or the biological shame of the shutdown response. The conversation between the tiger and his tigress was a small snippet of predator prey too: ‘You should have done this, I did not know how, and you could have done that, to why should I have to.’ This was just as distressing as the threat to her young whelp’s life. She shook none-the-less allowing her body to release the fear response in its most natural way, then took a big yawn, a long rest, and returned to her normal demeanor. She concluded that there is no escape from these predator prey relationships. The tiger could not see the dilemma of his tigress without judgement and the tigress could not understand why her mate was so uncaring. Stale mate. Stale. Mate. Perhaps the tigers’ ways are more about form and function than emotional intelligence, the tigress lamented. Meanwhile, the baby girl cub felt and watched this impasse, feeling empathy for her mama and papa. She made a silent and bold claim to do at least one thing differently in her mature lifetime. “You just watch and see she roared.” The northern hemisphere has the history of the Norse and islands of volcanic rock. These people and their feathered friends have thrived together for thousands of years, their ways mingled in blood and bones, water, and Earth. The sweet little bird would return to her beginnings if she could, but it is too late. There is not enough time, would take too much physical effort, and there remain too few connections after all the years that have passed.
She is very comfortable in her present nest yet knows that she cannot make the same daily flights through jigs and jogs for the rest of her life. She has not migrated for 23 years and feels the ancient call to find warmer weather and different food sources even though she is leaving her family. Now this feels justified as the details of such a move puts her offspring in good favor, something she has taken great care to secure. And there is no doubt in her mind that moving South to Vieques will provide the rebirth she needs while reasons to move away feel woven in just as deeply. There are sad, irreparable dynamics that have left a sore spot in her heart. Leaving an atmosphere of polarized loyalties for a unified feeling of connection sounds so heartwarming. She already knows that life will be harder on the new island of rock, but simpler, quieter, and full of new friends and sunshine in her last years to enjoy. Little birds of her sort never actually retire, they just move. It is that rajasic, fired by momentum inspiration that propels change with no regrets. She is accustomed to generating ideas and movement, just not so recently of this size and measure, so she takes her time. Every item in her nest must be evaluated for its meaning and purpose. In the end, she decides to leave everything behind, save her two travel outfits and a suitcase of books. This makes the move even more of a quest for it is truly a new beginning. She flew once to this island and has already made feathered friends. All kinds of birds, some who make art, float atop the warm ocean waters, and others who watch the sunset go down every evening before early bed. From afar she already feels welcomed, occasionally shadowing the sadness she feels for the end of her long nesting cycle. She remembers all the birds before her, migrating, adapting, and courageously risk taking to meet the calling for one last adventure. |
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