I've lost something tonight

I've lost something tonight. It’s hard to describe what I lost, it’s hard to describe the pain I felt when I lost it. The last three hours I have spent breathing in and breathing out. At the top of these three hours I felt such pain I would have preferred death. To get some clarity I went to my horse, while driving I could feel the tug of war “do I drive into this tree or do I take another breath?” I did take the breath and another and another. I can almost put words to that which I lost, although non seem to fit. Closest I can get is the acknowledgment that I am separate. That I have no connection to no one, least of all with myself. What I lost tonight is the illusion of being connected. I am in fact alone, separate and disconnected, I always was alone, separate and disconnected even before I was born. I yearned for a connection while I love being alone, that’s what separates me from me. That’s what separates me from you. I know the pain that this causes all to well, it’s the pain that propelled me forwards and holds me back. I have lost something tonight, and I’m not sure what I’ll find behind the cracked mirror.

Cellophane and tinted glass

When I was a child I remember getting candy, I liked the sweet treats but I liked the cellophane wrappers even more. I can remember looking through them and being fascinated by how the world suddenly changed. When ever I would look though the red cellophane the world had a different feel than when I looked through the green plastic wrapper. I noticed too that some things would become almost invisible when looking through red and that the same things would stand out when looking trough green bit of plastic. I could play like that for hours, trying to figure out how this magic was possible. I did all kinds of test; one eye green, one eye red, looking through multiple layers of colored cellophane, crumpling the cellophane up and smoothing it out. I remember the shock every time I would look at the world without looking through the small colored filters. The world looked so real, so obvious and so clear it would almost hurt my eyes.

While growing up I think we all get some “cellophane” stuck on our way of looking at the world. Sometimes I’m very aware of my tinted way of preserving reality and I know it is very easy to let my view become tainted. I’m also aware of the tinted and tainted perceptions of others. My tendency is to take in account their colored views and ease new information about myself in gradually or leave whole clumps of myself out as a way of protecting myself.

Now I don’t mind confronting tainted views when the need arises, I can stand up for myself and I think I do a good job of standing up for the world or groups of sentient beings that need protection from harmful opinions. But I must say I’m very careful and protective when it comes to disclosing things about others, for I can not adjust someone’s view or protect individuals from stained looks.

The thing that gets me most lately is the more I learn to see the world as it really is, the more I become aware of the enormous amount of colored cellophane we all carry with us. We view the world, others and on ourselves with unclear eyes. How we hope it will protect us from harm and how save we feel behind tinted glass.

Doing away with the bits of cellophane can hurt and looking at the world with clear eyes is not pain free and there will be nothing to hide behind, but then again, there will be nothing to hide for or from.

Tribal individuals

Seeking similarities
Have you ever have this happen to you…you are telling your story to someone, say the story of your recent travels, and that someone says: “I have been there too” and before you know it, you are looking at their slide show and listen to their story of their travel. They are not in the least bit interested in how your story differs from theirs and they are happy finding confabulated similarities. ”Thank goodness we are the same, now I can relax, stay blind for your point of view, stay deaf for your side of things and not feel for you. You are erased by someone imagining similarity.

Defining differences
“Not the same, definitely not the same.” That can be a very comforting thought. You see a cat scratching the furniture at a friend’s house and think mine never does that, mine is different. You hear of kids bullying other kids and you think: “Not my kinds, mine are different”. You know of someone’s fortune or misfortune and you know that theirs is a very different path. The difference you find can make you jealous or have you sigh in relieve: “Thank goodness that’s not me.” For better or for worse you set yourself apart from the rest, after all you are an individual.

So we spent as much energy in finding our differences as we do finding our similarities. Why? As a way to figure out who we are one with and who to cast out?

The same difference
What does that mean we are one, does it mean we are all the same? Or does it mean we are all part of the same organism, the same universe? I belief the last statement to be true, for me this means that looking for differences and similarities is futile, a waste of precious time.

A silly conversation between my foot and my hand popped into my head.

INT. MY HEAD - DAY

HAND
Well now, don’t you look funny

with your stubby little fingers.

FOOT

Me? Look at yourself,

your toes are way to long.

HAND

What happened to your thumb?
It’s in the wrong place.

FOOT

No it’s not. It’s exactly where it

should be, and by the way it’s

called a big toe.

HAND

You can call it anything you like,

but that won’t help you hold
a pen to write your ABC.

FOOT

I don’t need a pen to walk from A to B.

HAND

You are a strange creature.

FOOT

Well, so are you.

Foot tapping. Hand crosses its fingers.

HAND

Are you made from bone and skin?

FOOT

Of course I am, and I’ve

got some nails too.

HAND

He, me too, lets shake hands.

FOOT

Sorry, I can’t. I can put my foot down though.

HAND

Mmm, I must be the more

Peace loving one then?

FOOT

Jezz, now you’ve really put you foot in it….

Awkward pauze.

HAND

Lets just agree to disagree.

FOOT

Lets agree we have similar differences.

FADE TO GRAY

Well, you get the picture, these two can argue and debate their similarities and differences for as long as they like, completely oblivious to the fact that they are part of the same system; Me. They are one and I like ‘m both, they have their own use and value and they are as different as they are similar.

So we are putting our energy in claiming our differentness by putting safety pins in our ear or opposing the others point of view just to underline the separation. Like we put energy in singing the same song and wearing the same t-shirt in tribal colors to celebrate our similarities.

While it seems to me that we as tribal individuals should put our energy towards cleaning up the connection we have to the universal system, the universal principle. Cleaning up that connection we have to all, to you, to me, to the sea, to a tree and to the bugs on your wind shield, regardless of what we feel binds or separates us. We are connected whether we like it or not, we’d better start cleaning up our act and polish the connection.

There is a line drawn in empty space

While looking for words to explain the difference and similarities between fantasy and reality I found more words to explain the similarities then words to describe the differences. Being of Zen mind at the time I knew everything is fantasy and reality, in as far as it exists for but a brief moment and is not to be explained in words.

I found this “diagram” in Zen and the ways by Trevor Leggett, it explains it far better then I could.

The diagram below is not a diagram, but only an indication: the existence of the line itself is merely theoretical.

Above that line, the absolute is actual

and the world of distinctions only theoretical

Below that line, the world of distinctions is actual

and the absolute only theoretical

got it? good!

Communication

Communication is a funny multi level thing that goes way beyond words and still words get the highest ranking and we act as if they carry the most weight.

But just contemplate this for a second or ten.

Most people grow up understanding the words that are spoken and written around them, but what if you grow up understanding neither?

Imagine watching a life long movie in a language you don’t understand, with subtitles you can not read. How would that make you feel? What is there to help you understand what’s being meant? You are left with listening for intentions, translating the looks, interpret the gestures and reading the emotions.

You learn to become an expert in understanding the layers beneath the dictionary meaning of the spoken word.

You get confused by the denial and duality of words and intent and the unintended dishonesty of the tinfoil mask. You get to be more and more precise with the words you pick only to find no one understands or listens anyway.

So you are quiet, biting your tong, biding your time, contemplating your doubts, analyzing their theories.

That’s how I grew up.

Denial

I can’t deny denial, although the nature of denial is to deny. If I would let her have her way she would deny everything, even her own existence. She is a cunning one; she is a master of trickery and skillfully plays with mirrors and veils.

So who is she, what is her purpose?
Denial is my ego’s over protective mother, trying to shield ego from painful sights and harmful thoughts. Her purpose is to keep my ones so carefully constructed ego intact. She came into existence when I needed a security blanket, a place to hide in times when the world became too scary and confusing. Over the years I’ve learned to recognize her as the uncomfortable feeling of being smothered, as an allergic reaction to her injustice towards my authentic self.

I must admit she still comes in handy when I need some time to think. But I try to shed her veil as soon as possible however painful that might be; although her injustice is always more painful than the naked truth about myself.

I do wonder will I always feel her presence, or is she cunning enough to hide even from the mirror?

I wonder is my allergic reaction towards others, when they are in obvious denial, not just recognition of a denial within me?