Just when you think there is nothing more to say, there is nothing and more to say! Your counsel of guides and support team are always there for you even when you think you are fully in the doldrums and no wind has been pressing your sails for days and days. It is all good. Remember that it is out of the darkness, the void, the no-thing-ness that all is fertilized, percolated and born again. Be especially patient with yourself during this time, for it is as delicate and important as any gestation period. Allow. Trust.
You keep thinking that you want to know the answers to everything and yet you fail to consider what that would actually be like and also that while the human brain has far more capacity to express, it’s a good idea not to blow it up in the process! Trust. (T.R.U.S.T. Thinking Rationally Usually Starts Trouble!) Remember the 3D experience is to slow things down in the constraints of conceptualized time to then come to experience the freedom of no time within it, so don’t buck the process. Patience.
Remember that your body is catching up in transformative response to all that is taking place expressed from the universe and the sun of your galaxy and the movement of your planet and all others and the rotation of your moon and the magnification from the higher realms and the affect on your atmosphere and the purification of the old and influxes to your spiritual body and the healing of your emotional body and the blanking out of your mental body, and, and, and... Is there any wonder why you just need to sit and watch the birds and how the leaves flip around in the wind? Is there any wonder why your dreams are crazy when you can sleep and that bed seems like the most beautiful, blissful place in your world that demands a giant “ahhhhhh” every time you collapse your weary spine into it?!
Honestly, as if you haven’t heard this a thousand times before, the whole point of this is to LOVE YOURSELF THROUGH IT. It’s the fuel of all things, so throw it at whatever you can to survive! Love is always the answer and Self Love right now is the greatest untapped commodity in the world. Love yourself through it as if you are swaddling and cradling and cooing yourself in a giant rocking chair. Music helps too. Music truly is the soother of the soul – well, most types anyway. To that nurtured child feed it gentle foods, happy thoughts, kind expressions, sweet perfumes. Disallow anything that would disturb or unsettle it, for it is precious. When you have ever let yourself consider the miracle of gestation and what those busy cells by pure nature know to do to construct the intricacies of the flesh and its incredible systems – that is just what is happening to you right now, so shhhhh…baby’s sleeping.
Keep yourself occupied in the present presence with things that bring you simple joys and ensure that you are in charge of your mind at all times. It is yours, don’t let other matters occupy your cherished mind. If it feels good, do it. If it harmonizes, do it. If it sooths, do it. Anything else is noise and it is to be eradicated. Such a strong word is necessary to bring the point across! ERADICATE negativity, distress, worry, anxiety, self-flagellation, freak-out and all emotional pain. (The anagram for PAIN could be Positivity Always Initiates the New!) Don’t let it take you. Don’t let it sidetrack or manipulate or seduce you away from who you truly are.
Whatever you do, don’t give up. (Insert Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush singing "Don't Give Up"). Giving up is the greatest disrespect to who you truly are as a child of the universe so don’t even allow yourself to go there (there is another spectacularly beautiful song by Faith Rivera called “Child of This Universe” that expresses this masterfully; sing it to yourself every day). You are precious and you are worthy and you are chosen among many to be here at this time, so you gotta’ show up. And really, showing up just requires your willingness to enter the void of the unknown as a divine representative with an open heart and complete trust. That’s all! Of course this is monumental, but in a way, it is easy too, depending on your perspective. So just pray for the willingness to change your perspective with ease and grace. Your heart will naturally follow.
So, go to the void. Sit in it with divine emptiness. Allow everything to be okay. Do not take on the woes of the person next to you or of the world. Just be a sergeant in monitoring yours and be at peace. All else filled with wonder will follow. But for now, just gestate, baby!
Rest in the peace that is always yours.
P.S. Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke is one of my favourite books, and chapter eight is a good accompaniment to the above message, sent to you with love on this August full moon:
Borgeby gard, Fladie, Sweden
August 12, 1904
I want to talk to you again for a little while, dear Mr. Kappus, although there is almost nothing I can say that will help you, and I can hardly find one useful word. You have had many sadnesses, large ones, which passed. And you say that even this passing was difficult and upsetting for you. But please, ask yourself whether these large sadnesses haven't rather gone right through you. Perhaps many things inside you have been transformed; perhaps somewhere, deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad. The only sadnesses that are dangerous and unhealthy are the ones that we carry around in public in order to drown them out with the noise; like diseases that are treated superficially and foolishly, they just withdraw and after a short interval break out again all the more terribly; and gather inside us and are life, are life that is unlived, rejected, lost, life that we can die of. If only it were possible for us to see farther than our knowledge reaches, and even a little beyond the outworks of our presentiment, perhaps we would bear our sadnesses with greater trust than we have in our joys. For they are the moments when something new has entered us, something unknown; our feelings grow mute in shy embarrassment, everything in us withdraws, a silence arises, and the new experience, which no one knows, stands in the midst of it all and says nothing.
It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the seemingly uneventful and motionless moment when our future steps into us is so much closer to life than that other loud and accidental point of time when it happens to us as if from outside. The quieter we are, the more patient and open we are in our sadnesses, the more deeply and serenely the new presence can enter us, and the more we can make it our own, the more it becomes our fate; and later on, when it "happens" (that is, steps forth out of us to other people), we will feel related and close to it in our innermost being. And that is necessary. It is necessary - and toward this point our development will move, little by little - that nothing alien happen to us, but only what has long been our own. People have already had to rethink so many concepts of motion; and they ill also gradually come to realize that what we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us. It is only because so many people have not absorbed and transformed their fates while they were living in them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that, in their confusion and fear, they thought it must have entered them at the very moment they became aware of it, for they swore they had never before found anything like that inside them. Just as people for a long time had a wrong idea about the sun's motion, they are even now wrong about the motion of what is to come. The future stands still, dear Mr. Kappus, but we move in infinite space.
How could it not be difficult for us?
And to speak of solitude again, it becomes clearer and clearer that fundamentally this is nothing that one can choose or refrain from. We are solitary. We can delude ourselves about this and act as if it were not true. That is all. But how much better it is to recognize that we are alone; yes, even to begin from this realization. It will, of course, make us dizzy; for all points that our eyes used to rest on are taken away from us, there is no longer anything near us, and everything far away is infinitely far. A man taken out of his room and, almost without preparation or transition, placed on the heights of a great mountain range, would feel something like that: an unequalled insecurity, an abandonment to the nameless, would almost annihilate him. He would feel he was falling or think he was being catapulted out into space or exploded into a thousand pieces: what a colossal lie his brain would have to invent in order to catch up with and explain the situation of his senses. That is how all distances, all measures, change for the person who becomes solitary; many of these changes occur suddenly and then, as with the man on the mountaintop, unusual fantasies and strange feelings arise, which seem to grow out beyond all that is bearable. But it is necessary for us to experience that too. We must accept our reality as vastly as we possibly can; everything, even the unprecedented, must be possible within it. This is in the end the only kind of courage that is required of us: the courage to face the strangest, most unusual, most inexplicable experiences that can meet us. The fact that people have in this sense been cowardly has done infinite harm to life; the experiences that are called "apparitions," the whole so-called "spirit world," death, all these Things that are so closely related to us, have through our daily defensiveness been so entirely pushed out of life that the senses with which we might have been able to grasp them have atrophied. To say nothing of God. But the fear of the inexplicable has not only impoverished the reality of the individual; it has also narrowed the relationship between one human being and another, which has as it were been lifted out of the riverbed of infinite possibilities and set down in a fallow place on the bank, where nothing happens. For it is not only indolence that causes human relationships to be repeated from case to case with such unspeakable monotony and boredom; it is timidity before any new, inconceivable experience, which we don't think we can deal with. but only someone who is ready for everything, who doesn't exclude any experience, even the most incomprehensible, will live the relationship with another person as something alive and will himself sound the depths of his own being. for if we imagine this being of the individual as a larger or smaller room, it is obvious that most people come to know only one corner of their room, one spot near the window, one narrow strip on which they keep walking back and forth. In this way they have a certain security. And yet how much more human is the dangerous insecurity that drives those prisoners in Poe's stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their cells. We, however, are not prisoners. No traps or snares have been set around us, and there is nothing that should frighten or upset us. We have been put into life as into the element we most accord with, and we have, moreover, through thousands of years of adaptation, come to resemble this life so greatly that when we hold still, through a fortunate mimicry we can hardly be differentiated from everything around us. We have no reason to harbor any mistrust against our world, for it is not against us. If it has terrors, they are our terrors; if it has abysses, these abysses belong to us; if there are dangers, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life in accordance with the principle which tells us that we must always trust in the difficult, then what now appears to us as the most alien will become our most intimate and trusted experience. How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.
So you mustn't be frightened, dear Mr. Kappus, if a sadness rises in front of you, larger than any you have ever seen; if an anxiety, like light and cloud-shadows, moves over your hands and over everything you do. You must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any misery, any depression, since after all you don't know what work these conditions are doing inside you? Why do you want to persecute yourself with the question of where all this is coming from and where it is going? Since you know, after all, that you are in the midst of transitions and you wished for nothing so much as to change. If there is anything unhealthy in your reactions, just bear in mind that sickness is the means by which an organism frees itself from what is alien; so one must simply help it to be sick, to have its whole sickness and to break out with it, since that is the way it gets better. In you, dear Mr. Kappus, so much is happening now; you must be patient like someone who is sick, and confident like someone who is recovering; for perhaps you are both. And more: you are also the doctor, who has to watch over himself. But in every sickness there are many days when the doctor can do nothing but wait. And that is what you, insofar as you are your own doctor, must now do, more than anything else.
Don't observe yourself too closely. Don't be too quick to draw conclusions from what happens to you; simply let it happen. Otherwise it will be too easy for you to look with blame (that is: morally) at your past, which naturally has a share in everything that now meets you. But whatever errors, wishes, and yearnings of your boyhood are operating in you now are not what you remember and condemn. The extraordinary circumstances of a solitary and helpless childhood are so difficult, so complicated, surrendered to so many influences and at the same time so cut off from all real connection with life that, where a vice enters it, one may not simply call it a vice. One must be so careful with names anyway; it is so often the name of an offense that a life shatters upon, not the nameless and personal action itself, which was perhaps a quite definite necessity of that life and could have been absorbed by it without any trouble. And the expenditure of energy seems to you so great only because you overvalue victory; it is not the "great thing" that you think you have achieved, although you are right about your feeling; the great thing is that there was already something there which you could replace that deception with, something true and real. Without this even your victory would have been just a moral reaction of no great significance; but in fact it has become a part of your life. Your life, dear Mr. Kappus, which I think of with so many good wishes. Do you remember how that life yearned out of childhood toward the "great thing"? I see that it is now yearning forth beyond the great thing toward the greater one. That is why it does not cease to be difficult, but that is also why it will not cease to grow.
And if there is one more thing that I must say to you, it is this: Don't think that the person who is trying to comfort you now lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes give you much pleasure. His life has much trouble and sadness, and remains far behind yours. If it were otherwise, he would never have been able to find those words.
Rainer Maria Rilke
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