Crack the Door, Crack the Mirror. Spread a LIttle Light.

I have heard it said, from so many great spiritual teachers, that when we rage at someone, we are only raging at ourselves. That we see in the other person, that which we dislike about ourselves. Or that which we fear in ourselves.

I have done this myself. Gotten so angry at someone, because I read into their words something they didn’t mean to say. I have answered questions that weren’t asked, and not answered the one that was, because I projected, based on my own demons or ego, what I thought they really wanted to know.

And people have done that to me. They have taken my good intentions and twisted them into something ugly. They have inserted their own guilt, or fear, into what I say to make it mean something hurtful to them. And raged at me for it

Generally speaking, when one person rages at another, I am pretty sure it usually ends up with two egos battling, and two people angry with each other. A ruptured relationship. I am guilty of this, as I have defended myself against the untrue projections. And people have defended themselves to me, against my false accusations.

Imagine, for example, you offer your help to someone who asks, but at the same time, lay down boundaries which are necessary for you to maintain your equilibrium. The person, who had other ideas about the form your help would take, becomes angry at your boundaries, and interprets them as being put there to hurt them. While in reality, they are put there for your own safety, so you can continue on with your life while helping them.

This happened to me…..which obviously I am trying to work out by writing this essay.

It got ugly….there are more details in my last blog. But the fact is, 4 or 5 days later, I am still concerned about this person. I blocked him on my phone, on my email. Because of the ugliness. But I began to worry, about the ordeal he faces, and just wanted to know he was ok, with what he had to do, with the arrangements he made. I didn’t want to start up with him again, or even have a conversation. But I could not sleep wondering if he was ok, and knowing that I’d cut off all access to reach me.

So what is that? It’s unconditional love. This person has hurt me, but I see now that he has hurt himself more, that he lost much more than me from his actions. I forgive him, and move on. Because I know that holding onto pain and anger is like taking poison and thinking the other guy is gonna die. It’s a lesson I learned well going through an ugly, contentious, 4 year divorce. In order for me to move on, I had to forgive my ex for all the ills he had attempted to do to me. Because holding on to the hate, pain and anger, gave my ex control still. I knew he didn’t know better, I knew that it was his own fear, and feelings of inadequacy that caused him to do those things. And I also learned that our thoughts become things. All the ills he wished on me, were what manifested for him. It is sad, just sad, to see this happen to someone you loved.

So it is the same now. I see that this man believes he is not worthy of unconditional love. He believes he is being punished by forces greater than himself. He lashes out, because he listens to the voice he thinks is protecting him, when in fact it is the voice that is leading him to harm. It leads him to being alone, thinking he needs no one. That he is separate from the whole. When in reality, we are all one thing, and need each other.

Now that the anger has subsided over the projections, and nastiness, and I have allowed my spirit to once again take over, and feel the unconditional love for him that I try to extend where ever I go….I feel for him. I feel for his inner child, I see his soul and the struggle it has to be heard, to be allowed to shine, to remove the layers of darkness that lie over it. Last night I could not sleep, because I knew I had shut a door that needed to be cracked open. It actually made my stomach hurt.

During my divorce, in the early days, my son was living with my abusive and controlling ex. My ex conspired with my son, all kinds of things that hurt me, one of which was to cut off my ability to communicate with my son. I used to go knock on the door of my old house, the place I’d lived for 30 years, and just beg my son to come out and hug me. Because I knew, somehow through the grace of God, that my son needed to know I was still standing no matter what he did to me. That I still loved him unconditionally just because he existed. Eventually, he understood, and walked away from his abusive and controlling father to my door, with the clothes on his back. Because he knew.

It was then, that I learned the overwhelming power of unconditional love.

So, I sent this man a text after unblocking him, and told him I just need to know if he’s ok. I think I wanted him to know that I still care…that no matter what he throws at me, I will still be standing. I don’t want to be his lover, but I want him to know that I can live what I preach, that I can walk the walk at the end of the day. I also want to know that for myself.

Unconditional love means just that…it’s unconditional. We cannot pick and choose those we love. We have to love everyone. Probably especially those our egos feel least deserve it.

So….my intention was not to be a mirror to him. But I know I was, we are all mirrors for each other, whether intentionally or not. It’s the way it works. I know he didn’t like what he saw, and that his ego took over and projected all his fear onto me, and my motives. And I know he hurts, he knows somewhere that he read me wrong. A little bit at a time, I hope he can begin to believe that he is worthy of love, and….that he doesn’t have to earn it. That it is his because he exists.

Living like water means that we find a way to get back to source. So that’s what I’ve done. I have found a way to get back to source and extend love where it is needed. I know that most people would not understand. But this morning, my soul feels free, I am satisfied that I did the right thing, cracking open that door for a little light to shine through.  A Course in Miracles says that a miracle is a change in perception from fear to love. I hope I have helped to start that process.   I hope I cracked his mirror a little too. Cracked the door, cracked the mirror. Spread a little light where it was needed.

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Living Through Fear

Ok, I had a quasi-relationship with someone for a few months. It wasn’t a love relationship, and it wasn’t really a friendship. It was something else, a connection, really undefineable. It started out as one thing, then ran into a wall, morphed into something else, and then, finally, kind of blew up in a fit of ego vs. truth. It was weird.

But dang, it’s just come to me how strange it can be to see all evidence of that person’s involvement in your life disappear. Comments, “likes” on posts, pictures, texts, emails, all kinds of interactions just disappear. Now…I didn’t really do much of that. I don’t really care that much whether or not I have an interaction with this person, but he has made it a point to make sure there is no sign of me.

Blocked my phone, my email, unfriended me, unliked my FB page. Whatever. I dislike doing that stuff, if a person isn’t bothering me, I just don’t do it. It’s part of my life, why try and delete it?

Well,I suppose that if a person’s MO is to run. To hide. To retreat. To bring the walls around him in, so that no one else can get in, it seems like a good idea. He might almost be able to convince himself that I never existed in his life, that I never taught him anything, that he gained nothing from it, and that all the stuff he projected onto me, all the kindnesses I extended to a seriously messed up person, were actually done with an ulterior motive to get something from him. Even tho I have more that he has, and not just material things. I have a life that I love, a job that I like, a beautiful home, a great kid, a loving family, a warm loving circle of friends. He has a sad story, and that’s about it. He can’t drive, having lost his license for 5 years. He has a home, which is paid for lucky for him. He can’t work, because he can’t drive, he has a few friends, a function of having grown up in the town he lives in. But nothing that would be a motive for me to do kind things in the hope of getting some of it.

Fear. I gotta say, fear. I have known two men who make every decision in their lives based on fear. Never on love. I gotta feel for both of them. So, while he decides that the reason I took him to an art museum was because I wanted something from him, undefined, I really just have to feel sorry for him, that he is unable to accept human kindness, and that usually comes from a place of not believing he deserves it.  He thinks it’s his gut talking.  But any time we come from a place of fear, you know it’s the ego.  My ex also didn’t believe he deserved it. He also believed every kindness was a manipulation.  He also lives his life from that place of fear, from his ego.

Whatever. If deleting, and running, and pretending that I was never there helps him get through the day, so be it. He won’t see a sign of me. But…I gotta wonder how he’s gonna delete the memories of the truth from his mind. Because you know….That shit that you bury, doesn’t die. It just festers, and rots and makes you sick. So much easier to view the world through the eyes of love, isn’t it?

He is an artist, he paints.  He had given me a painting, on the first night we met.  I loved it.  I had pointed it out as my favorite of the dozens of paintings in his house. Yesterday, I sent it back to him.  I could not have it hanging on my walls, much as I liked it, to remind me of all the accusations he lay on me because he just couldn’t accept kindness as kindness.  Bad energy, even from something beautiful. Because he had to project onto me all the fearful thoughts he has about himself.  I put a note with it, telling him I hope he finds someone to give it to that he can trust enough to accept their kindness.

I am not angry with him.  And, I am out of his life, at least as far as anyone can see.  The electronics age is so easy, put the button and delete.  Now, if he can just find a way to delete the memories, the truth that is embedded in them, he’ll be ok……