Meditating Through Ugliness, Arriving at Bliss

I was doing a morning meditation this morning in an attempt to center myself and find something I felt like writing about. I remembered that yesterday someone told me, sincerely, that they hoped I would drop dead. I let that thought glide around my mind for a bit, outside of space and time.

Was it an ill wish? I’m sure if you asked that person, they would have said yes. But how is it received on my end?

I am a spiritual being, having a human experience. We all are. So, the first thing I thought was, that’s a really nasty thing to say. But then, I reconsidered. It was a childish thing to say. It was a reactive, thoughtless thing to say. But it presupposes that I fear death.

I have never feared death, at least, not since I was an adult. I am a firm believer that the hour and manner of my death was chosen by me before I was born. The thought, meant to be ugly, really had no effect on me, except to give me even more clarity on the state of this person’s consciousness. That clarity makes me feel sorry for them, that they spew ugliness into the world, and are incapable of stopping themselves. Of course it reinforces the fact that since I am in the midst of a human experience in space and time, I don’t want any of that limited consciousness to infect my psyche. It does not, but I think it allows for an interesting discussion.

The comment, ill-thought out as it was, brought me around to the man who now makes me smile with every thought. I believe that what we think about expands. That thoughts become things, so even if there is an ugly thought in my head, I try consciously to turn it into something else, usually compassion. Since I left my ugly abusive marriage I have asked the Universe to please let me know the love of a good man before I die. I am now surely in the last quarter of my life, and the Universe has answered. I have had some false starts, but this one seems like it will last. There is something wonderful happening now. Using Brene Brown’s analogy of the marble jar, it is full, and I’ve had to increase the size of it, because deposits keep being made. He tells me that his jar is full too, which makes me just as happy as having a full jar of my own.

May your own marble jar fill up. Love and light.

4 responses to “Meditating Through Ugliness, Arriving at Bliss

  1. Anyone, in my opinion, who can tell you they wish you’d drop dead, wants to be dead him or herself. That’s… far out in left field. Goodness!

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