This may, in fact, be obvious, but it came as a seemingly novel idea to me as I had a vision of myself trying to stuff my beloved into the box of conforming to how I would like my beloved to respond to me. A set of conditions so to speak, that must be adhered to if I am to stay and dole out my particular brand of expression of appreciation.
What of unconditional Love? you ask. Well from my recent experience, while in the process of sorting out how I was feeling trying to be receptive and aware of negative thoughts and emotions allowing them to be and not attempting to change or make a judgment. That went along smoothly for me until I started presenting my case. I had completely forgotten unconditional and felt justified.
As I rattled off my list of demands for the way I insist the way things be, my beloved withdrew, not completely. My beloved seemed to become different, not as open and interactive. My beloved stayed though, continually expressing reassurances of a mutual affection. Something was awry, I could tell, but I knew not what it was.
As the way things go sometimes, it was almost by mistake that I woke up to what I had been doing. I was not allowing my beloved to express love in their own special, very personal way. When I did not accept that and instead pointed to the beautifully wrapped and decorated box I had constructed, and insist that my Beloved get in and conform to that, I changed everything, for the worse.
Let your Love be as it is, let it flow from its source and watch it bloom into a magnificent flower
Upon what you perceive as injustice, it was not inflicted on you. Nor suffer from projecting what will be, depending on how your are situated, it is overly fantastic or excruciatingly painful.
Now you have the choice to gather from where your inspiration is derived. Cast aside and forgive, make a clean break. For what you do Now will create an entirely more perfect or disastrous future. You decide, no one else does unless you allow it
Mad desire for Desire and the Water of Life makes Love inflame
A thousand thousand fires and furnaces every second.
As my intention to serve G_d’s creatures and therefore Him grows. I am set upon a path of improving myself. Through trial and error, sorrow and joy, madness and serenity.
To experience fully and actively all that this existence offers. I hope for the days when at ultimate peace praising Him that I want of nothing more than to please my Beloved.
As awareness sharpens and failures and faults are exposed, I volunteer to enter the Refining Furnace of Love, and that all the slag rises and is discarded leaving the purest of Love a human is capable of giving.
Allow me to introduce you to the Yellow Jacket Wasp.
These little bastards are fucking mean! They are considered to be beneficial because they eat other insects like mosquitoes, apids and the like. I have become acquainted with them, quite painfully 6 times in the past week.
They will defend the colony very aggressively. A giant, pushing/chasing a lawnmower over the nest is to be attacked mercilessly. The sting is painful initially leaving a sharp ache the rest of the day.
When the ache subsides, what you are left with is not unlike a large mosquito bite that itches for a week or more. I am amazed at the tenacity and courage of these little fuckers. Imagine giving your life trying to kill a creature several thousand times your size to defend the queen and her brood.
I have often wondered, what is God’s will for me? Over my nearly 30 years in actually seeking recovery from addiction, my conclusion has evolved over time but becoming present in this moment has to be the illuminating factor. It’s happening right now.
Yep, this is indeed it. As depressing or exhilarating as that seems, it is what it is, so I may as well choose to be grateful for it. I have been confusing needing (craving) something other than what is, with merely being satisfied with the actual truth of the matter. It may not be what I want but without a doubt is exactly what I need from a learning and growing perspective.
What to do now, my initial urge is to withdraw into solitude. As appealing as that sounds, there seems to be a more open and balanced approach beckoning. Keep lines of communication open. remain open to honest heartfelt criticism, and expand my horizons here with a new commitment to contributing more regularly.
Here’s a question to ponder. Can an English speaking Christain, learn Hebrew and Arabic/Farsi and convert to Judaism and Islam simultaneously?
Alas, here I am again, in anguish, insisting that I have things the way I would prefer. I even have the audacity to say this encounter has been blessed, that God approves of me choosing to seek divine Love from unreliable sources.
I do believe in a blessed human love, though I wonder why I’m consistently ignoring what is constantly right there. Perfect understanding, knowledge of all my weakness and limitless care for my well being.
Why must I hunger for something so elusive and prone to typical human frailty? The more it escapes my grasp, the more I crave. Am I addicted to such self-abuse? Evidently, as sad as that is to admit, I must increase my effort to realize His Love for me and to integrate the truth that, that is enough. From there I will begin to love myself enough to abstain from one-sided affairs.
Poetry Challenge – Write a poem of no more than 15 lines about “Light and Dark”, that repeats at least two lines of the poem.
Light and dark are opposites in the unseen realm Yet in the dark is where light is found But in light no dark can be found When light is sought dark shadows follow Trying to hold on to the soul’s pain, Its angst, its sorrow, and its lament For dark does not want the soul to be free But to languish in the depths of spiritual death And in this light meets the downtrodden soul Shining upon the captive dark That will always run from the light Because dark cannot withstand the purity of light’s truth It trembles and fears its death in the light Yet in the dark is where light is found Light and dark…
I often eavesdrop to random voices roaming in the air. Some leave bruises on my eyelids due to the frequent wiping of tears. They have a saddening picture. Others stimulate endless smiles. Some would like to remain unidentified. All in all, I love to narrate stories of the sad, happy and mysterious voices.