View from The Cottage, Mull, March 2007"The shoemaker on earth that had the soul of a poet in him won't have to make shoes here." Mark Twain, from Extract From Captain Stormfield's Visit to Heaven
Last night, I had dinner with Kit Kat and the magical Pixie~Sue (whose partner has now been nicknamed Dixie in honour of her new found virtual fame). We ate fajitas, drank wine and put our lives to rights from the safety of the Heights. We talked a lot about the future, and about our plans (if you want to make god laugh...), and as ever, the company and conversation - ever softly spiritual - left my head reeling today with possibilities.
This afternoon, working in the Peace Cafe, I remembered something Kat posted to me on the blog after my uncharacteristically long absence last month:
I thought about how many offers I make to assist the creative work of others, how often I have bowed to the needs or desires of others whilst sacrificing my own duty to myself, and I thought about my past loves - how I got there, what I gave, what I lost. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that I should limit what I give out to the world, but I think that the spirit in which I give is increasingly important. The three of us talked last night about the significance of honouring yourself, and that until you do so, your attempts to honour others - whilst of enormous benefit - can often be spiritually false.
For example, last night we talked about the act of apologising. We all confessed to being frequent apologisers, and how sometimes, apology acts as a way of accepting blame that isn't yours and can be an attempt to pacify others.
"I apologise all the time," said Pixie Sue.
"Me too!" announced Kit Kat, "In supermarkets, people bump into me and I apologise."
I confessed I was the same, "Sorry! Sorry you bumped into me! Sorry I exist, sorry if my presence on the planet is disturbing anyone! Sorry!"
We all laughed. I told the other two, "The only way I've ever been able to stop myself from apologising all the time for my very existence is to think of the apology as a request for verification from other people. That way when I apologise for something stupid, I hear it in my mind first as, 'Please will you make me feel better about myself?' and that usually stops me saying it when I don't need to."
We tried this for the rest of the night and there was a lot less apologising.
It strikes me that in many ways, much of my life, my interactions and particularly my loves, are like this. I am so busy requesting verification for myself in one way or another that I quickly lose my ability to see where I really am, and to construct an idea of what I really want. With my current focus on self-acceptance, I am certain that, as ever, the only way to change the world for the better, or to help, amuse or love others, is if I'm coming from a place that is holistically self-embracing (after all, everyone needs to embrace themselves once in a while. Not too much though, or you'll go blind).
This has been, even in its early days, a strange summer for me, so far. Beauty and pain have been dancing through my spirit in an offbeat, oddball tango, tripping together memories of the past and experiences of the present, to make a gossamer trail of emotion that wings behind them through my days. Perhaps life is just like this.
This afternoon, working in the Peace Cafe, I remembered something Kat posted to me on the blog after my uncharacteristically long absence last month:
You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection. (Buddha (563-483 BC)
I thought about how many offers I make to assist the creative work of others, how often I have bowed to the needs or desires of others whilst sacrificing my own duty to myself, and I thought about my past loves - how I got there, what I gave, what I lost. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that I should limit what I give out to the world, but I think that the spirit in which I give is increasingly important. The three of us talked last night about the significance of honouring yourself, and that until you do so, your attempts to honour others - whilst of enormous benefit - can often be spiritually false.
For example, last night we talked about the act of apologising. We all confessed to being frequent apologisers, and how sometimes, apology acts as a way of accepting blame that isn't yours and can be an attempt to pacify others.
"I apologise all the time," said Pixie Sue.
"Me too!" announced Kit Kat, "In supermarkets, people bump into me and I apologise."
I confessed I was the same, "Sorry! Sorry you bumped into me! Sorry I exist, sorry if my presence on the planet is disturbing anyone! Sorry!"
We all laughed. I told the other two, "The only way I've ever been able to stop myself from apologising all the time for my very existence is to think of the apology as a request for verification from other people. That way when I apologise for something stupid, I hear it in my mind first as, 'Please will you make me feel better about myself?' and that usually stops me saying it when I don't need to."
We tried this for the rest of the night and there was a lot less apologising.
It strikes me that in many ways, much of my life, my interactions and particularly my loves, are like this. I am so busy requesting verification for myself in one way or another that I quickly lose my ability to see where I really am, and to construct an idea of what I really want. With my current focus on self-acceptance, I am certain that, as ever, the only way to change the world for the better, or to help, amuse or love others, is if I'm coming from a place that is holistically self-embracing (after all, everyone needs to embrace themselves once in a while. Not too much though, or you'll go blind).
This has been, even in its early days, a strange summer for me, so far. Beauty and pain have been dancing through my spirit in an offbeat, oddball tango, tripping together memories of the past and experiences of the present, to make a gossamer trail of emotion that wings behind them through my days. Perhaps life is just like this.
Today, the sun is shining, I'm half in love with lemongrass tea, people I meet seem filled with beauty, goodness and creativity. My mojo has returned and all is tight and right with the world.
And the acid is starting to kick in. Clearly.
And the acid is starting to kick in. Clearly.
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