Most people will not intentionally place themselves in the face of hate. They run away from it. I run towards it. That’s where the alchemy is. That’s where the call is. I visualize it like shadows screaming at each other twisting around trying to find their way past each other in their confusion. All of it rushing around blindly seeking its way to the light. It’s all screaming for the path to love. Screaming ‘where is it?’, clawing to rise. Every action of the shadow is that scream. I can’t do anything about that but for myself. I can’t transform another person. That’s arrogant and impossible. I can love myself so fiercely I speak to my own shadow with love, ‘My dear, you are the path’. I’m that stand, once in awhile, another sees how if I love me, they too can love themselves. I feel it when that happens, when another person sees themselves with such love in a way they did not before think possible. I feel it when a person suddenly feels the innate love they are. When this happens, when they experience this, something that has no words shifts in me too. The most powerful gift to this world is self love. It’s the path waiting in the shadow.
For me the fear of not belonging has fueled much discontent. And much of me viewing myself as separate from other. However, if I stand in self responsibility I can see I do belong. I am not separate. I am all I see around me. Yes I am unique, each being is unique. And unique does not equate to separate.
Self acknowledgement does not separate, it expands and unites. For me self acknowledgement and self responsibility dissipate old fears with tender knowing I am connected. It is me I am exploring, the ancient me in many forms. I belong not because of an action, I belong simply by being.
In looking I’ve realized I have spent much of my life subconsciously looking at history like a play wondering where do I fit, what part is mine to take on? The thing is, the play is over. It’s over. I don’t have to follow a role. I can do whatever I want. It’s a worthwhile play to learn from, not a play for me to keep leapfrogging throughout my life in the name of preservation. Not to perpetuate it blindly based on the fear of perpetuating it blindly.
Every part of history is mine. I belong to every single part of it as it is ultimately about humanity, this planet and its inhabitants. I am not separate from any of it. I am both innocent and guilty. Not from shame from awareness, self love and self acceptance. It is all mine. I belong. With that lesson in mind I am free. The play is over. Who I choose to be now is solely my responsibility.
I had for so long confused kindness with ‘nice’ which to me is a self numbing to please. To me kindness is not ‘nice’ it does not bend to comfort nor complacency. To me kindness is a powerful stand of love, an open heart calling out to the greatness in self/other. A tender whisper or a strike of lightening with thunder growling ‘Let go of hiding yourself, I see your glory’.
What is kindness to you?
I’m human I will hate. Hate is not the issue, it is the relationship with hate. No, I do not vow to not hate. And I don’t know a single human on this planet who does not know hate. My only vow is to be true to myself and to love myself in all of my fallible humanity which includes loving myself when hate comes present.
It’s not hate that is the issue it is the denial of it which pushes it underground to fester rather than receive it as prima materia asking to be seen and accepted and loved. That is how I transmute the experience of hate into self love. I don’t avoid my human experience. I embrace it then choose self responsibility and self kindness. This is how hate transmutes to love for me.
I have slain dragons and touched on my own dragons bloodSurvived the troll bridges
Breathed fire across the burning lakes
Led wars in victory and defeat
Torn my armor to pieces with quivering hands
Drank poison and its remedy
Seen words on tender
Catapulted through shock
Flown with and became feather
Learned the songs of many tribes
Which season my accent to this day
I have bathed and watched the caked mud
Splatter to my toes
I have traveled many lands
All to just come back to my teddy bear
In the epicenter growling
Is the throat of the unsung
Debris scattered untouched
Hands scarred and burning
Beating to the frozen drum
Circling its own temperament
Shaking in its grasp
Corner one, known
Corner two, everything
By the ting of metal
Collison is inevitable
Fight of birth
Only in collide.