The romantic mysteries

The common wisdom goes like this: that the myth of “some enchanted evening,” when all is awash with the thrill of connection and the aliveness of new romance, is actually a delusion… a hormonally manufactured lie. That soon enough, reality will set in and lovers will awaken from their mutual projections, discover the psychological work involved in two people trying to reach across the chasm of real life separateness, and come to terms at last with the mundane sorrows of human existence and intimate love.                            
In this case, the common wisdom is a lie.

From a spiritual perspective, the scenario above is upside down. From a spiritual perspective, the original high of a romantic connection is thrilling because it is true. It is in fact the opposite of delusion.  For in a quick moment, a gift from the gods, we are likely to suspend our judgment of the other, not because we are temporarily insane but because we are temporarily sane.  We are having what you might call a mini-enlightenment experience.  Enlightenment is not unreal; enlightenment – or pure love — is all that is real. Enlightenment is when we see not as through a glass darkly, but truly face to face. What is unreal is what comes after the initial high, when the  personality self reasserts itself and the wounds and triggers of our human ego form a veil across the face of love. The initial romantic high is not something to outgrow, so much as something to earn admittance back into – this time not as an unearned gift of Cupid’s arrows, but as a consequence of the real work of the psychological and spiritual journey. The romantic relationship is a spiritual assignment, presenting an opportunity for lovers and would-be lovers to burn through our own issues and forgive the other theirs, so together we can gain reentrance to the joyful realms of our initial contact that turn out to have been real love after all.Our problem is that most of us rarely have a psychic container strong enough to stand the amount of light that pours into us when we have truly seen, if even for a moment, the deep beauty of another. The problem we have is not that in our romantic fervor we fall into a delusion of oneness; the problem is that we then fall into the delusion of separateness. And those are the romantic mysteries — the almost blinding light when we truly see each other, the desperate darkness of the ego’s blindness, and the sacred work of choosing the light of mutual innocence when the darkness of anger, guilt and fear descend.

Fresh start

I got locked out of my old blog because I was lazy and stopped posting and forgot my user name and password.  It seems medieval that I cannot even access my own blog.  So when we lose something in life, we start again.  Some old blog posts might pop up as I review them.  it is my blog, you don’t have to read it or all of it.

 

Today I declared my independance of guilt from my past.  I think the weight was giving me gout or bursitis or whatever it is that makes my hips hurt.  I swear every year I get older comes with some new …itis.  I personally think  I finally know to enjoy like and all these itis’s.  rude mother nature, just rude.

Old post is new again, because I love it.

Just a song, slightly re-written

July 25, 2008, 3:29 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

When he was younger,
he stood staring at the door.
Waiting for the day,
That he knew would surely come.

Put gel in his hair.
Dressed as he thought you’d like.
But as time ticked away,
Promises fade one by one.

And now he’s all grown.
Made it through on his own.
Now strong enough to see,
You’ve been where you want to be.

No longer dying inside,
I will not let you define,
Everything that I am,
By the one thing I don’t have,
Because I’m more than that.
I will not be made to hide,
These tears wont fall for you this time.
I will not be ashamed of my name,
Anymore.

Sometimes he wonders.
Imagines what you’re like.
The emptiness inside,
That made you miss his life.
The oceans widen,
With all your silence.
Leaves his daydreams behind.
Childish fantasies unwind.

And now he knows,
You won’t let him come home.
Puts his hands in his hair,
Cause he’s been waiting thirty years.

No longer dying inside,
I will not let you define,
Everything that I am,
By the one thing I don’t have,
Because I’m more than that.
I will not be made to hide,
These tears wont fall for you this time.
I will not be ashamed of my name,
Anymore.

No longer dying inside,
I will not let you define,
Everything that I am,
By the one thing I don’t have,
Because I’m more than that.
I will not be made to hide,
These tears wont fall for you this time.
I will not be ashamed of my name,
Anymore.

The Ticking

I am in my livingroom listening to the song “Lament” from EVITA.  So you know.  If it were my time, which it isn’t I think I would be thinking this below.

The ticking of time, the light filtering through the trees on the edge of the yard illuminating the grass like a field of fires.  This is what comes to mind when I think of that time.  The time in my life for the ticking.  The ticking off of people from one of many lists that I need to call from to say my good-byes to the ticking of the clock in our downstairs hallway that has always seemed to tick louder when you were waiting for something important to happen.

I think that I would just go on living life as usual until the last month of my life if I knew it was coming.  I would still have a family to take care of, bills to pay and dogs to walk.  I would not want my family to remember that the last six months were spent on frivilous things.  I want them to remember me as a dedicated husband and father who expended every last bit of life or energy to make sure they were provided for.

The last month I would spend with my son and daughter and husband and friends and family.  I know how to use commas, but I want you to feel that I keep adding people to my lists of those I would want near me.

I know of my own mortality, I have dealt with terminal illness before and it has to prove to be terminal before I slow down, perhaps because I refuse to go stagnant and let it take over like vines on an old brick building.  I have too much to do to sit idly waiting for the ticking to stop.

tick

tick

tick

tick

So much for being aware

No really, there is so much for us to be aware if.  Try choosing to be aware of one new thing today.  Absorb it.  Steep in the awareness.  Enjoy!

haunt

sometimes we are haunted by the demons of our past. like shadows we catch out of the corner of our eye. how deep is the hurt that cannot heal, how striking the betrayal that can not be forgiven? Someone should have told the little boy that these were questions that he didn’t want to ask and should never have answered.

  • jrawles

I really enjoy

seeing work friends outside of work, they are always way less stressed.  even if they don’t like my orange hat and white crocs. 🙂

Parrots

People of Earth…just kidding.  Ok I just wanted to shave with everyone  the wild parrots I saw this morning.  The didn’t really want their photo taken and kept throwing things at me,