|Walk on. Photo by Kyla|
I've spent time with fear in every way I have learned to do, over the years. I've met fear with imaginal journeying, investigation and analysis, prayer, self-talk, and mindful presence. Mindful presence seems essential, yet it is not by itself sufficient. I have to actively choose to step outside and away from the fear definitions of events, in order to be sufficiently healthy and relaxed in my body, and in order to make useful decisions.
That's a set of movements that can be practiced, fortunately, and practice does increase ability though so far it does not "make perfect."
That's okay with me. I'm grateful for any ground I win, in this battle against -- against what, exactly?
If you've never had the experiences of being stopped in your tracks, brought to your knees, thrown to the ground, stabbed in the heart, had your mind and emotions suddenly overtaken with darkness you know is not your own nature, then likely your sense of these matters has more to do with individual psychological health and illness than mine does.
That is a factor, no doubt about it. But I have had to conclude that it is not the only factor and is often a minor player indeed.
I have had to conclude -- and I can't prove this to anyone -- that there are in fact forces who operate intentionally to obstruct certain human processes of growth and change.
The type of processes these forces impede are those I have no choice but to embody: all that moves toward liberation, all that attempts against high odds to win a kind of psychic freedom for the human lifeforce and creative spirit. These are opposed on a fairly continual basis.
So, why do any creative projects succeed, you might ask? I don't know but I can tell you that many more fail than do make it into manifest form, and many die before the person inspired with their beginnings even has a chance to take them at all seriously.
"Who me? Nah. I could never do that. The world doesn't work like that. Anyway I have bills to pay." Etc.
What I am saying here is not meant in any way to insult human beings. I know, because I am one, that it is a damn hard thing to be in any full sense. We all get stopped, in our joys and exuberances and inspirations, and we get stopped mightily.
We get stopped so pervasively that most of us don't really notice that's what goes on. We take it as part of the environment, part of human nature. We accept that it is just that way.
I don't, for some damn fool reason, and never have been able to. Instead, I keep choosing to take up my small weapons, unsheathe my seemingly feeble claws, and head into battle.
I know, I know, we don't like war images. We are damn tired of war. I personally hate war and don't mean to romanticize it or invoke it.
Yet in fact it is a battle. Some say we are at peace now, that the War in Heaven is over. I say, well, until that peace trickles down to my station here on the ground, apparently in order to grow and thrive and flourish, I still have to stand ready to defend territory.
I claim and defend the territory of my mind, my body, and my heart. I do what I can to keep my sacred stewardship of these expressions of lifeforce clear of intrusion, and keep it directed toward whatever looks most like liberation, feels most like freedom, for Beings.
My strongest weapon, it turns out, is trust in my own path, even when I can't see where to put my foot down on it next.
My other blog, Walk into the Mystery, updated April 3.