Rodin’s “The Three Shades” appears to be three guys pointing down at the ground. Actually it’s the same guy – originally pointing from three different angles down at Dante’s hell from the top of the Gates of Hell sculpture. So what? It dawned on me that while the point of focus remained constant- the angle of view changed. Hence hell must have looked somewhat different from each vantage point. It’s all perception, Baby…… Really and Absolutely…. Quoting Frost – out of context – “…..and that has made all the difference”.
In my last post is an excerpt from Ch 4 on Break-Through from Laurens Van Der Post’s book “The Lost World of the Kalahari”. Van Der Post offers the opinion that change and evolution is not orderly – quite the contrary. It happens in fits and starts, when least expected – that there is a buildup of energy that eventually has no choice but to explode into its new form. “It seems that species, society and individuals behaved more like thunder-clouds than scrubbed, neatly clothed and well-behaved children of reason. Throughout the ages life appeared to build up great invisible charges, like clouds and earth of electricity, until suddenly in a sultry hour the spirit moved, the wind rose, a drop of rain fell acid in the dust, fire flared in the nerve and drums rolled to produce what we call thunder and lightning in the heavens – chance and change in human society and personality.”
My spirit has moved and fire has well and truly flared in my nerve. Chance and Change are afoot and I’ve finally surrendered to the storm. The build up of energy is so strong now that I wouldn’t stand a chance to run from it if I wanted to. There is a huge tornado right in my road bearing down on my house of cards I call “my old way of being – my old angle of view into the world and my place in it – all those old limiting beliefs and paradigm structures”. It is going to absolutely wipe them out. And I’m letting it……. I can’t wait.
In the interim – it’s just not pretty. Why? Because I feel an all consuming rage at the programming and perceptions I was fed by my previous world and I bought into hook line and sinker. I am pissed off at my parents, their parents, the Catholic church, my schools from kindergarten through university, the media – all forms, the government, the corporate structure, this country and its paradigms. I’m really pissed off that the god I grew up with totally supported the “old way” and didn’t give me a heads up there was a new way, a better way of being in and of the world until now. Most of all I am absolutely and completely angry at myself that I didn’t get this sooner – and when I did have the chance in previous decades to change it up – I stuck my head in my pile of sand called fear and didn’t do a god damn thing…… What a waste of precious time.
See, I was taught that if I got good grades, was a good girl, kept my knees together until well after high school, didn’t get pregnant out of wedlock, got a college degree, got a husband who was well paid, got a job that paid well, saved lots and lots in my 401K, invested in a house and property early, donated time and money to those in need, – if I worked really hard, stayed in shape – ’cause women have to, towed the line, didn’t rock the boat – or, if I felt like rocking it by virtue of rebellious thoughts like “there has to be more than this…” – please do so in the privacy of my own dark closet – and for god’s sake – whatever you do -keep your feelings to yourself. If I did all this I would be blissfully happy.
What a bunch of happy horseshit! I realize that this all may smack of a worthless rant – maybe so, maybe no. If it does and it offends you and your sensibilities I encourage you to pop onto another blog. Me? I’m choosing to stop strangling my own voice with the monitoring whipcord of social correctness. And like anyone who’s had a rope wound tightly around their neck for a long time – unable to talk – their voice is going to be scratchy, hard on the ears, offensive even – making little or no sense while they find their clear unique voice and words again…..
The next phase of my journey is inward. Traveling an unknown internal landscape from head to heart where the real treasure is – a life lived by my own definition – not someone else’s version or definition. At first I thought I would keep it private. Just journal it on paper to myself so I wouldn’t run the risk of offending family members or friends who actually read this blog. I’m not going to do that. Part of my path beyond the tornado is being 100% who I really am and if no one but me accepts that – then so be it but I ain’t hiding it anymore. I can already see a few family member’s eyes rolling. Fine – roll away. But in the middle of the night – when you’re staring at the ceiling – steeped in worry about that 401K, retirement, your boss, the leaky ceiling, etc. – I’m betting there’s a still, small, unique voice in you that hasn’t been strangled yet that’s just dying to get out and howl a bit too.
If this leaves a sense of confusion – a prickly scratchy feeling around your neck – then you’ve picked up the scent, the point and the path….