Your physical form is no more

Andres: Swami didn't make it
Me: What?

This was how the conversation began. My 1st thought was that someone didn't make it to the satsangh that he just went to. Darn. I didn't make it either... I was home sicky. But then, that would be quite a horrible typo to make though... mixing up *insert person's name* with 'Swami'

But it wasn't a mistake. Swami didn't make it. Sathya Sai Baba has left his physical form.

I have been incredibly reserved about my experiences in the Ashram. It was all intensely personal and definitely not something that's easily said or understood by others. I could never say this to others... everyone was estatic on my behalf! It was a personal and somewhat bitter argument between Swami and I. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to go. I didn't need to see him physical. I never wanted to. But no one see's Bhagawan w/o him wanting it to happen.... even if I didn't. Now I know why...

I keep thinking 'Swami... you knew! You've known all along! You called me to see you despite all my protest and reservations... you made SURE of it... because you knew" ..... No one else knew. No one knew that just the day after I landed back in Trinidad, that he would end up in the hospital.

I am tempted to be sorry. But I cannot be. I am happy, sad and immensely grateful. I've never been attached to his physical form, never wanted to be. Never cared to. It was all about love and a way of life. Swami allowed me his darshan and graced me with intense stares... blanking my mind! & it was then I re-affirmed my belief that 'I don't need to see you again... I am happy with just this once'

Once... was my Karma. Thank you Swami!  

My Zahir... A soul recognition, a mind tortured with our bodies removed & this heart beats alone. It shouldn't be...

Happy 420

Gonez tro

Ha! I want to scream!! and laugh... and cry..... all at the same time!
My hands..... oh my hands are sweaty! 


I love you and I want to slam my head into yours, so it hurts us equally 


That and many other non-violent things as well

Say goodnight

I'm tired... I know, I've got to be tired. My body and mind have been going through some extra strain lately, so it's only logical that I would be tired... right?


But why am I so ... (afraid?) to go up to bed right now? I know I need to sleep. But just the thought of heading upstairs, alone... lying on bed, alone... with my brain


Yet at the same time, I'm not exactly communicating to say I'm covered in company. 
There is something scary about ending a night. But I know I can start a new day tomorrow. 
I just need to end tonight... let it go

Let's drive & operate heavy machinery

I was asked today to take the car & go pick up my uncle since he had no transport to get by us (and no one home here was available) 


I grabbed my bag and keys and got out the house w/o even changing my flour covered home clothes or washing the grime off my face. I couldn't let that chance be taken away by a change of mind after time.


The realization that came after was profound!!! How amazingly liberating it feels, to drive... ALONE! Just myself in the car, a/c on ... but not even the radio. Just me, alone behind the wheel. No nagging voices and quarrelling that passes off as discussion. No co-pilot freaking out on my behalf and transferring their nervousness.  I always second guess myself and think that maybe I would never really find my driving groove. That maybe I will always be nervous.


But today I drove alone... and I was okie... I was at peace...  I was happy.... and it was the best I'd ever driven in my life!

Can you feel it?

"...Learn to detach.”

…

But wait, I said. Aren’t you always talking about experiencing life? All the good emotions, all the bad ones?

“Yes.”

Well, how can you do that if you’re detached?”

“… detachment doesn’t mean you don’t let the experience *penetrate* you. On the contrary, you let it penetrate you *fully*. That’s how you are able to leave it.

…

Take any emotion – love for a woman, or grief for a loved one…. if you hold back on the emotions – if you don’t allow yourself to go all the way through them – you can never get to being detached, you’re too busy being afraid. You’re afraid of the pain, you’re afraid of the grief. You’re afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails.

But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. … I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.”

I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we are not supposed to cry. Or how we feel a surge of love for a partner but we don't say anything because we are frozen with the fear of what those words might do to the relationship.

- Morrie's approach was exactly the opposite. Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. It will only help.

Care doesn't have an on button

Omg, I can't do it.
I was 'this close' ... THIS close from just pressing that button and feeling layers of my pride be ripped away with the echo of each unanswered pause.
I want to share all this with you. I want to tell you about this great news! How much it scares me and excites me. I want to tell you how funny it was, how it all came to be.
I want to tell you the story of my day! Of being stranded in town, with no money, no phone and no car... of all the things I felt and thought and how the entire day played out. How I got escorted by police to a car that I wasn't even driving and was made to pretend I was. I want to share all of this...
But I didn't. Because it's not enough. Why? Because what I really want, is what I'm not going to get: I want you to laugh at me, laugh with me. I want you to tell me it's okie and scare me even more. I want you to listen... to understand...
I want you to care
But I cannot do that.
Sharing with you is half of what I want... you wanting me to share with you is the other half, that if absent, makes everything null and void. So... I let you drift by in silence... 


(and God knows how much that kills me)
(it's not supposed to hurt this much)
(how can something hurt so much?)
(why do I hurt soooo bad?)

Waking like this...

I woke up this morning and conversations started replaying in my head. All sorts of things I wish I never heard
I started remembering my dreams, vaguely, but I was seeing bits and pieces.
The world was in turmoil.. or maybe it had been. Hardly many ppl are left. It's dry, hot, very dusty.
I am afraid, but I am trying to be strong. I go looking for something, somewhere... a place to rest.
I am caught somehow... in a room lined with iron door panels which all move with a suction force inwards, one after the next... as if the air pressure in the room has changed. It has. I am sealed in. Trapped.
I open something and become aware that I am now contaminated. A monitor shows the bacteria/virus spreading onto my skin. Invisible to the naked eye.
A woman laughs. She LAUGHS at me. She has done this.
But I don't believe I will fall ill like all the others who perished before me.
Some part of me knows that I am indestructible.

Back to the conversations in my head now. I woke up sad. Sad that I have lost respect and admiration for someone. Now I'm weary. I woke up and I just feel sick inside... I just want to cry. Need to.... but I can't... not right now.

I just called my doctor and made an appointment for tomorrow. I've waited long enough. I can barely hold on

????

I want to
I don't
I want to
I don't
I need to
I don't know
I need to
I don't know
I cannot understand
I don't want to understand
I need to understand
I don't need to understand
I can't
I have to
I can't
I have to
I don't want to!
I want to!
I need to
I don't want to!
I Don't Know!
I do know
I know
I know
Nothing

Oh FMS

I enter... heart racing, hands cold

Smile on my lips

Fear in my eyes

I am beautiful

Everyone is looking at me

Everyone is talking to me

But...

All I see is you

Heart racing, hands wet

My face is still

My voice swallowed 

I am SCREAMING inside

Screaming

Begging

Praying

I am quiet

I am screwed 

I don't want to lose you

I've never re-blogged anything before... but this one hit me SO hard and SO close to home... I won't even bother to explain beyond just sharing it as it is...

"Sometimes you forgive people just for the simple fact that you still want them to be in your life.”

It’s a quote that has been plaguing me for lack of a better word for the better half of two days. Some pretty simple words save for the word “forgive” which is pretty poignant and powerful all on its own, but strung together to become a significant sentence.

Needless to say, that one phrase has been repeating itself on a constant loop over and over in my head, looming over me like the metaphorical rainy cloud everywhere I go with no umbrella in sight.

How is it, as complex creatures of this earth, born with the capacity to mull things over and analyze them with a hopeful resolution, that it is so difficult to bring some sense of coherence to a statement like this? When I say coherence I don’t mean logical sense because it is a phrase that is true in its entirety, but rather coherence in the sense that we understand, yet do nothing to rectify the emotional turmoil to which it’s attached.

Why forgive people just to keep them as permanent fixtures in your life? We forgive but never forget. We forgive while simultaneously massacring our entire self worth and dignity.

Permanent reminders of emotional scars are eternally embedded all because bad choices are made, founded on weak moments of selective memories of good times.  

I think human nature is synonymous with masochism.

We delude ourselves into thinking things could improve, and smile when we ought to be solemnly vowing that it will never happen again. Blaming anyone but yourself for this is absurd and irrational to say the least because we allow persons to think it’s ok because they will be forgiven.

They will always be the bad habit that we return to.

Written by 'Word Bits' to whom all credit goes to