I’m not the victim of circumstance. Of uncontrollable life. Of this eternal river that constantly flows and changes, sometimes lifting me right out of the water, sometimes flowing me steadily along. That’s what I try to tell myself, anyway. That I don’t believe I am a victim.
I try to tell myself that I am better than to play the role of victim in this life, but the truth is…I do sometimes fall into the belief that I am the innocent victim of others’ selfish storylines. This, of course, coming from the perspective of my own selfish storyline. You see the insanity of this, don’t you? It’s one of those funny things. A blind spot.
Many people can’t see past this particular blind spot in their day to day interactions with the world. I understand that. Even those who do have awareness of the me zone are still often hijacked by the small frightened human inside. I’m sure even the most Zen of buddhas has a cranky pants child in there somewhere, still a little bit shitty that Mum didn’t give them the lollypop they truly deserved. (They really did deserve that lollypop, you guys. We all deserved that lollypop. (*Wink face emoji*)
As humans, we can’t escape the glaringly obvious, can we? We are all biologically wired to be animals (and small children) on some level. I find this part of life so hard to make peace with, because there is a higher part of me who laughs at the little girl I’ll always be deep down. That little girl finds it SO liberating to be ever so passionately cranky at those who (she perceives) have hurt her. To really let out a great big you’ve done this to me! is one of the most freeing experiences there is. It also has the potential to wound others, and I will never subscribe to team an eye for an eye. Not ever.
The truth is, there can’t be an actual right way to be. We’re all programmed differently, and many of these differences are passed down to us from DNA born in a body, place, and time long ago. What if people are me-centric because they need to be in order to learn greater life lessons? What if there is a greater reason for all the chaos and nonsense we tend to judge as bad? I tend to think there is.
The other day, my inner lollypop girl wrote a poem, so frustrated by the victim mentality that seems to get in the way of life really shining for many of us. I’ve deleted it. It’s not my truth. My actual truth is love and compassion, it always has been, from very early on in my life, at least. And though my early life conditioning created many a limiting belief — that I’m slowly, but steadily freeing myself from—unconditional love is one belief I know I want to keep.
I do believe that I, and others, fall prey to the victim mentality from time to time as a result of being…oh, you know, human (omg, life, right?) But I’d like to continue to look at all aspects of myself and others from a place of compassion if I can help it.
With all that said, it’s liberating (and psychologically necessary, I feel) to release the roar that truly does live within, however irrational or me-centric its origins were. Creativity is such a beautiful way to do this (my goodness. Those crack the mega shits poems feel so good as they tumble out of my body.)
They’re just not the message I want to share with the world.
It’s important to me at this time (and, in fact, forever and always) to shine a hope for peace and equality for all.
We are one.
And though this song sings an Australian story, I sing it to the world. Because I am me, I am not on any one side; to me there are no two sides.
Today, we speak for our beautiful black lives: who matter now, and always have mattered. Tomorrow, perhaps we might speak for each and every life touched by the closed eyes (and heart) of intolerance.
For the less obvious among society who have been oppressed and eye rolled entire lifetimes long, often suffering in silence:
* the sensitives and empaths of the world.
* the quirky/odd ones.
* the wildlings.
* the nerds.
Mainstream society is very good at identifying the obvious marginalised groups and fighting for their inclusion and acceptance.
It’s time, though, to dig deeper by asking:
Who am I intolerant of?
Are they not human, also? Like me?
We are all worthy of being seen through neutral eyes, and we are all worthy of forgiveness and being held through our darkest days.
Embracing our individuality, and separating from the rigid judgements and expectations of mainstream culture, ironically, seems to be the way to remember we are one.
Being kind to ourselves, and our fellow humans as we work through our kinks, might also be a lovely thing.
So much love, my beautiful bloggy friends.
I’ll stop with my little bursts of unsolicited opinion, now, because I trust that everything in life happens for a reason. I trust that everyone finds the exact experiences they need in order to shine exactly the way they were always meant to.
Why, then, did I post this particular contradictory blog post?
The answer to the question of peace lies within each of us.
We are all human.
We all have mothers, and sisters, and best friends, and bad hair days.
No matter who we are, no matter what we do.
Peace starts with unconditionally loving ourselves. It starts with seeing the ways in which we are a little bit shit or unique and realising…we love ourselves anyway.
This will allow us to see each other clearly.
This will allow us to see that we are just as flawed or unique as the neighbour we judge, and that is okay because we are human. This will empower us to choose growth, change, peace: we cannot choose these things unless we acknowledge the need for them in the first place.
It starts with seeing the oppressed, and seeing the oppressor and vowing to walk with them both until we have all walked into our sameness.
We can no longer hide from our shadows.
We have seen this day a thousand times before, and each time we’ve been too frightened to truly see, and movesomewhere else.
We have fought wars, we have swept knowledge under the carpet… but we’ve collectively grown enough now and we know: this time is different.
We know this is the beginning of peace because it has to be.
And so we make the choice: seek acceptance of the self, and of the all.
Have you noticed how life leaves clues along the way? At the time the clues are dropped, we often miss them (or at least, I do) but looking back, it’s so clear why this thing, that thing, or the other thing had to happen in order for us to arrive right here.
In this very moment.
As this very version of us.
For me, when my spirit came knocking again after a little while of being…well, I have no idea where it was, to be honest— it was muted within my human reality/body/life, lets put it that way. Sort of half asleep.
Whatever, wherever, however. When it returned, it brought with it the entire story of me, including a trail of very obvious signposts pointing to here, now, me.
The journey to accepting (loving all the bits and pieces of) myself, others, and all of life has been an absolutely fascinating one.
Epiphany after epiphany. Resistance. Rest. Depression.
Energy shift. Growth. Slight acceptance of self and others.
Divorce (oh bugger).
Depression. Depression. Depression.
More epiphanies. Resistance. Rest. Enjoy life. Greater love and acceptance of my humans and myself.
Energy shift. Rest. Depression. More acceptance. Epiphany. Growth. Rest. I think you get the picture.
Anyway, it’s been a journey so far, and after a massive energy shift last week I’m feeling GOOD. Really full, and whole, and content. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been out walking every morning this week—hanging out with music, trees, and the good old whirling universe that’s made the difference. A bit of self-love and me-time does tend to bring the balance back a little, doesn’t it.
This morning’s epiphanies lead to the absolute realization that perfect cannot exist without imperfect, just as thick cannot exist without thin. And so the idea that I am what I am when I am it, began to sink a little deeper into the essence of me. It sounded and felt like the most beautiful, soothing lullaby to me.
As I tidied the mess that small children make of an otherwise tidy house, I let the toys, the noise and the lack of control just wrap around me, rather than ‘judge’ it for being ‘bad’. I accepted the chaos, and when I did, I clearly saw and understood the duality of it all. I cannot have these beautiful tiny humans, without the opposite of the good they bring. Because that is life. That is the chaos of it all.
The moment I accepted that small children just are where they are at (guys, that’s code for complete mess makers and lunatics 😛 ) the easier it was for me to accept where I am at. See? What magic is this life? SUCH magic. (And no, I’m not at ALL sorry for my CONSTANT use of the word magic. Ha ha ha :P)
I’m so grateful for the growth and change that is the story of me at this time in my life.
And I can’t wait to see what the next few pages of this wonderous book of life bring to me, and my sweet (cough: messy) bubbas.