During the Dark Night

My dreams are so dull now. My nightmare is boredom – and so, I must be being filled with nightmares – because nothing happens in my dreams. Save for a stagnancy – so, after waking up, I am persuaded to consider; what am I doing wrong? Ah yes. Ordinariness. That must be it. In trying to escape to a world of breathlessness and magik – the magik of ordinariness must catch up with you somehow. Impose itself intermittently in spasmic dream modules until we stop and look – hey, what’s going on? You cannot escape your dreams.

When I had first met Celest, she was captivated by the endless undying love syndrome. Which in itself isn’t folly – until it becomes entangled in a mass of torturous monologues on letting the life be sucked out for the sake of romance. I didn’t pay much attention to this – I was entranced by timelessness and healing and ultimate good and miracles. My heart was light – and Celest felt it too. Thus, the Goddess emerged. As she always does within the light-hearted. And there I was, intent on never making the same mistake again of mistaking the girl for the Goddess. So I looked for her everywhere – and found Illuminati. Yet both these girls had a honeydew sadness from the ever-flickering past. I made it a point to not delve into such things. I felt the Goddess would know best how to mend the scars of the heart – and I simply loved. How can I, a mere mortal, know how to heal their pain? So, I left it to the Goddess.

How many of us unwittingly imagine to ourselves that the way to heal pain – ours and others – is by delving to the depth of it and filling it with love. Alright. Okay. I concede. It may work. Yet what will you do when it doesn’t? Will you stand back and think again, or will you let the pain twist your heart into knots also? And what is worse, will you then imagine that such doing of allowing it to twist your heart is the only way to truly come close to this soul you are trying to help? That in some way of saying, “I am here, sharing your pain,” it will flinch them out of their misery? Maybe. I am confused. I have almost been convinced this is possible all of a sudden, and I’ll tell you why. Because I used to do the very same thing.

It has been a domineering habit – like flower petals lacing my steps – or thorns, I should say – does it make a difference which? A hopeless romantic can go both ways. So, sitting deep in my psyche, it seems to often be the natural option I depend on – only to always be betrayed – like when I tried with my father, my lovers, my friends. I’d share their pain in hope of allieviating it, and when did it ever work? After I had left all that behind, to witness Celest insist that she is on a battle against the Universe for the pure sake of the challenge – I got confused, because my own wounds of such insolence hadn’t completely healed. All these silly ideas of self-sacrifice. The Goddess is definetely not at work here. Except perhaps to show me my own silliness. Though my response was to move on from so twisted a situation, I cannot help but be acutely aware that I have found no way of showing such tragic thoughts to simply drop away. Except for one.

Sit down. Shut up. Watch the breath.

You can always depend on that. Fine fine. Let the world be hypnotised by their vain notions of self-righteous tragedy and David and Goliath myths so misconstrued into inappropriate situations by the use of half truths and half lies. Defying all odds is a beautiful thing. Defying yourself, on the other hand – well… where does it begin and where does it end. Nowhere! That’s exactly it! Nowhere! What is your intent in your defiance?

Let’s play this game for a short moment. Defiance for the sake of defiance – that seems to be the most fashionable stance these days, earning the utterer approving grins all around and commendations of baffling courage and fortitude. So you want to see how far you can go, you want to see if you can learn anything. There is that lie being gossiped in social circles through vague terms, though I have no time for vagueness, so I’ll put it bluntly: “I feel my task is to walk the hard path, the difficult road, to plunge myself into the abyss so that I could come out victorious and teach the world things they never knew.” Everyone is trying this. It’s no longer a new idea. Have no illusions about that. The rare idea is to take the easy road.

What, you think the regular Joe who goes to his dull job and comes home, and makes his dinner, and falls asleep, day in and day out, is taking the easy road? Trust me, he is undergoing the greatest torture. He has convinced himself that life is about struggle. That struggle is what builds character. A half life and a half truth, so cleverly intwined, you could almost miss it. Even now I have to step back before I can see it. That powerful a lie has swallowed the world whole.

Character is built when adventure is at the heart of your journey. When that which comes to you easily has as much worth as that which comes through difficulty. When the moment decides your actions, and not some self-imposed rulebook in your head. You may struggle in one moment, and breeze in the next. Dynamic effectiveness, abundant skillfulness, is what builds character. Be Here Now. Now is where your character is being built. In this very moment. The unending, undefyable eternal nowness. Have you ever been adventurous enough to breeze easily through difficulty?

Learning Lessons. If it is the desire to learn that has provoked your insistence on leaping into cowdung to see if it makes you stronger, allow yourself to dispel the lie inherent. Yes, we learn by living and dying, but the moment you make either the living, or the dying, more important than the other, you stop learning altogether. Did you not stop to wonder why you feel like you’re not learning anything in the stagnancy of your great tragic struggle? Oh… so you thought it would all accumulate and hit you at one go the moment you finally emerge victorious? Or did you just take one lesson and extend its period? Something that could have been learnt in seven seconds – extended for seven years. Staying in hell, thinking the pain is teaching you, that you are overcoming something tremendous – that the punishment is also a lesson of sorts (which it is, when it’s treated like any other lesson). A martydom for, as you convince yourself, the sake of mankind, when infact, it has always only ever been, an escape from your own heart.

But you cannot escape your dreams: at some point, think; “What the fuck!” Think it. Just once.


~ by revolutionwithin on March 27, 2009.

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