Tag Archives: truth

Unconditional Love, with a big fat “NO” on top

“Being present and ‘accepting’ is NOT the same as tolerating or condoning unkind, disrespectful, violent or shaming behaviour.

I speak from experience, as a mostly-recovered ‘Mr Nice Guy’! I think back to the utter emotional violence I witnessed in my family as a child, and how I was always tolerating, tolerating, tolerating… stuffing down my sorrow and anger, trying to make everyone feel better, making excuses for their unkindness, swallowing my words, never feeling I had the right to say ‘no’…

Until one day I realised:

I HAVE A VOICE. I MATTER TOO.

From a loving place, our hearts fully open to the Mystery, grounded in a deep YES to all of life, deeply rooted in the clarity of non-dual understanding (we are ALL the same Consciousness), we can STILL give a clear ‘no’ to situations, behaviours, policies, people. We can let go of hatred yet maintain a fierce discernment. We can love deeply, and still say ‘no’. And have the courage and willingness to face the consequences.

You may feel a deep compassion and tenderness towards a person yet still say ‘no’ to their requests, their statements, their behaviours, their acting-out. Your ‘no’ emerges from a deeper YES to life, truth, authenticity. Seen in this way, the ‘no’ and the ‘yes’ are not opposites, as the Moon is not the opposite of the Sun but equally welcome in the unconditional vastness of sky, in the giant YES of Presence itself.

The ‘no’ is not necessarily resistance, or ego, or an expression of fear, or ‘running away’. The ‘no’ can be fierce love, too. The ‘no’ can be an expression of great courage.

Friends, unconditional love does not require us to become doormats, or tolerate violence, or squash our precious feelings and hide our ‘no’ in order to appear to be more spiritual or compassionate or nice or kind or ego-free or enlightened, beyond human feeling. Fuck that image. It is false. A mask that will suffocate you in the end.

A true boundary, a loving ‘no’, does not separate us, it protects us. It allows us to keep our hearts open to each other, relate honestly, yet know exactly where we stand.

Others may not like or agree with our ‘no’. They may judge us for it. Call us names. But we were never here to protect others from pain. We were always here to speak our truth, with fierce compassion.

And so we can say, without contradiction:

I LOVE YOU. AND I WILL NO LONGER TOLERATE YOUR BEHAVIOUR.

And stand there, free, in our awesome power.”

~ Jeff Foster

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Starve a Vampire: Learn to Hold Safe Space

Yes. HEAL. Love is the antidote.

“The phrase “holding space” is nearly ubiquitous. And yet truly safe spaces in which we can be seen and held in our vulnerability are still exceedingly rare. So let’s to take a moment to question: What exactly is a safe space, and how do we go about holding that for each other?

A safe space is one in which we are received fully, in totality, as ourselves. There is no lecturing or instruction in a safe space. There is no saving or even “helping.” There is no shaming or projection or demanding someone else to be more like us or do it “our way.” If we want to be a safe space for someone, we do not tell them not to be angry. We do not react fearfully to their sadness or pain, or freak out when they show their shadow. Neither do we allow them to place blame on us, harm us, or lash out in a way that serves no one. Holding a safe space, then, requires extremely strong and well-established boundaries.

In order to hold space, we simply witness the other with love, as though our consciousness itself is a set of warm and expansive arms gently holding and supporting—but never grasping. Like a butterfly has landed gently in our open hand, or like one holds a newborn baby, particularly one that is upset.

Being this for another is the most sacred act, the greatest honor, we can possibly undertake; it is the holy work. This simple state of being holds magical transformative powers, as the deepest and darkest of wounds can finally be witnessed in loving presence and so often transmuted and released just because they are finally met and witnessed. And of course, we can only be this for another as deeply as we have already chosen to heal and integrate our own selves…which for me is a tremendous motivation to do the work, and do the work some more.

But what happens when someone opens the special Pandora’s box of their own darkness to us, in confidence and in need, and we don’t meet them there but rather squelch and shame their expression? I am not quite sure our society as a whole yet understands just how toxic and deleterious this scenario can be; it can create divisions and wounds in the psyche that can last a lifetime.

For example, when a woman shames another woman, for being too much, too “negative,” and too herself —whether it be a daughter, a sister, a friend—she then creates in that girl that very vulnerability that puts them at risk of falling into the hands of the nearest hungry energy vampire/abuser/predator. The lack of safe space and even the subtlest of shaming, actually primes her to be abused by shunning and relegating a piece of her soul to the shadowlands, where only the vampires dwell.

I know from personal experience that those very predators—who are paying attention, and looking for weak spots, and hoping to feed on her soul—will be willing, in fact all too happy and excited, to “see” those parts of her that have been forced into shadow and shame by others. They will provide a reflection of that part of her where others have failed to do so—and by being the only one willing to hold her in her darkness, they will gain a very unholy control over her.

In particular, the absence of truly safe space for empowered feminine sexuality has made our daughters vulnerable to the worst sort of predation. Further, the destabilizing and and shaming of the feminine actually threatens to destroy our entire world by creating a massive imbalance that only love can heal.

The minute we force another woman into a box, and accept her only conditionally according to her ability to satisfy our requirements of “good” and “appropriate” behavior, and have her modulate and curate herself to our liking (or more accurately, so as not to trigger our own shame and wounding), the minute we force her to change in order to receive our approval, we are being a puppet of the age-old agenda to syphon and steal power, and we reiterate the cosmic wound. We are part of the problem. Period.

As noted, when a someone shames someone else simply for being, it is really her own judgment and rejection of herself, which she is imposing upon another. If we can catch that and heal that in ourselves before inflicting it on another, we may quite literally be changing the course or even saving someone’s life. If we do the work within ourselves and really have a good hard (loving) look at our own shadows, we suddenly find ourselves able to hold space for another in a way we had no idea we could.

I would say it’s a big deal, a huge responsibility, and high time to rise to it. The energies that are resurfacing right now— in us—are so raw and delicate that they depend on us remembering how to enact this on Earth once more. And if we should fail, the fate of the Earth is also at stake.

With the shadow that’s looming over the entire Earth right now, a veritable sea of unprocessed darkness, it is so essential that we all make the commitment to healing our own.

So do a good deed, and starve a vampire. Commit to holding truly safe space, for yourself, for those you love, and for the Earth that we call home.”

~ Sara Sophia Eisenman

https://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/02/starve-a-vampire-learn-to-hold-safe-space/

“Sustainable Development”

An excerpt from Derrick Jensen. Very pleasing to come across again today.

“Sustainable development” is a claim to virtue. The word “development” used in this sense is a lie.

The word “develop” means “to grow,” “to progress,” “to become fuller, more advanced.” Some synonyms are “evolution, unfolding, maturation, ripeness,” and some antonyms are “deterioration, disintegration.” And here is a real usage example from a dictionary: “Drama reached its highest development in the plays of Shakespeare.”

But here’s the problem: A child develops into an adult, a caterpillar develops into a butterfly, a stream harmed by (say) mining might possibly in time develop back into a healthy stream; but a meadow does not “develop” into white-box houses, a bay does not “develop” into an industrial port, a forest does not “develop” into roads and clearings.

The reality is that the meadow is destroyed to make the “development.” The bay is destroyed to “develop” it into an industrial port. The forest is destroyed when the “natural resources” are “developed.”

The word “kill” works just as well.

Think about it. You’re going about your life, when someone comes along who wants to make money by “developing” the “natural resources” that are your body. He’s going to harvest your organs for transplantation, your bones for fertilizer, your flesh for food.

You might respond, “Hey, I was using that heart, those lungs.”

That meadow, that bay, that forest were all using what you call “natural resources.” Those “natural resources” were keeping them alive. Those “natural resources” are their very body. Without them they die, just as you would.

It doesn’t help to throw the word “sustainable” onto the front of whatever you’re going to do. Exploitation is still exploitation, even if you call it “sustainable exploitation.” Destruction is still destruction, even if you call it “sustainable destruction.”

One sign of intelligence is the ability to recognize patterns. We industrialized humans think we’re smarter than everybody else. So I’m going to lay out a pattern, and let’s see if we can recognize it in less than 6,000 years.

When you think of Iraq, is the first thing that you think of cedar forests so thick that sunlight never reaches the ground? That’s what Iraq was like before the beginnings of this culture. One of the first written myths of this culture was of Gilgamesh deforesting the hills and valleys of what is now Iraq to build great cities.

Oh, sorry, I guess he wasn’t deforesting the region; he was “developing” the natural resources.

Much of the Arabian Peninsula was oak savannah, until these “resources” were “developed” for export. The Near East was once heavily forested. Remember the cedars of Lebanon? They still have one on their flag. North Africa was heavily forested. Those forests were destroyed—I mean “sustainably developed”—to make the Egyptian and Phoenician navies.

Greece was heavily forested. Ancient Greek philosophers complained that deforestation was harming water quality. I’m sure the bureaucrats at the Ancient Department of Greek Sustainable Development responded that they would need to study the problem for a few years to make sure there really is a correlation.

In the Americas, whales were so abundant their breath made the air look perpetually foggy and were a hazard to shipping. “Development” of that resource removed that hazard. Cod were so numerous their bodies slowed the passage of ships. “Development” of that resource fixed that, too. There were so many passenger pigeons that their flocks darkened the sky for days at a time. Once again, “development” of that resource got rid of them.

Do you know why there are no penguins in the northern hemisphere? There used to be. They were called great auks. A French explorer commented that there were so many on one island that every ship in France could be loaded and it would not make a dent. But that “resource” was “developed” and the last great auk was killed—oops, I mean “developed”—in the 19th century.

Two hundred species went extinct just today. And 200 will go extinct tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Every biological indicator is going in the wrong direction.

And we all know why. The problems are not cognitively challenging.

“Development” is theft and murder.

“Development” is colonialism applied to the natural world. “Development” is kleptocracy―a way of life based on theft.

Here’s another test of our intelligence: Name any natural community—or ecosystem, if you prefer mechanistic language—that has been “managed” for extraction, or that has been “developed”—by which is meant industrialized—that has not been significantly harmed on its own terms.

You can’t, because managing for extraction is harmful, as we would all recognize if, as in the example above, it happened to us. We would all recognize that if an occupying army came into your home and took your food and a couple of your relatives that your family would suffer.

So why, with all the world at stake, do we suddenly get so stupid when it comes to “sustainable development”? Why do we have such a hard time understanding that if you steal from or otherwise harm a natural community, that natural community will suffer harm?

Upton Sinclair wrote: “It’s hard to make a man understand something when his job depends on him not understanding it.” I would extend that to read: “It’s hard to make people understand something when their entitlement depends on them not understanding it.”

In the 1830s, a pro-slavery philosopher argued that slavery was necessary because without it the slave owners would not have the “comforts or elegancies” upon which they had become so accustomed.

The same is true here, when we extend the understanding of slavery to the natural world, as this culture attempts to enslave—read, “develop,” oops, “sustainably develop”—more and more of the living planet.

In short, we’re allowing the world to be killed so we can have access to ice cream 24/7. And we call it sustainable development so we can feel good about ourselves as we do it.

The good news is that there are a lot of people who see through the bullshit. The bad news is that this doesn’t, for the most part, affect policy……

A story may help make this clear.

Before the big Rio Earth Summit in 1992 (and wasn’t that a success! Things are so much better now, right?), the US ambassador to the United Nations sent out high level assistants across the country, ostensibly to get public input as to what should be the US position at the summit. One of the meetings was in Spokane, Washington, where I lived at the time. The hall was packed, and the line of people to speak snaked to the back of the building. Person after person testified that “sustainable development” was a sham, and that it was just an excuse to continue killing the world. They pointed out that the problem is not humanity, but this culture, and they begged the US representative to listen to and take a lead from Indigenous peoples the world over who lived well and lived truly sustainably on their lands, without “development.” (In fact, they lived well and sustainably because they never industrialized.) They pointed out that “development” inevitably forces both Indigenous peoples and subsistence farmers off their lands. Person after person pointed out precisely what I’m saying in this article.

When we were through giving our testimony, the representative thanked us for our support of the US position and for our support of “sustainable development.” It was as though he hadn’t heard a word we said.

Here’s the problem: The word “sustainable” has since been coopted to not mean “helping the real world to sustain,” as in playing your proper role in participating in a larger community that includes your non-human neighbors, but instead to mean “sustaining this exploitative lifestyle.”

Think about it: What do all of the so-called solutions to global warming have in common? It’s simple: They all take industrial capitalism (and the colonialism on which it’s based) as a given, and the natural world as that which must conform to industrial capitalism. This is insane, in terms of being out of touch with physical reality.

The real world must be primary, with whatever social system you are talking about being secondary and dependent, because without a real world, you don’t have any social system whatsoever. “Sustainable development” is a scam and a claim to virtue because it is attempting to sustain this exploitative, destructive culture, not the world on which it depends.

And that will never work.

So many Indigenous people have said to me that the first and most important thing we must do is decolonize our hearts and minds. Part of what they’ve told me is that we must break our identification with this culture, and identify instead with the real world, the physical world, the living Earth that is our only home.

I want to tell one final story. In his book, The Nazi Doctors, Robert Jay Lifton asked how it was that men who had taken the Hippocratic Oath could work in Nazi death camps. He found that many of the doctors cared deeply for the health of the inmates and would do everything in their power to protect them. They’d give them an extra scrap of potato. They’d hide them from selection officers who were going to kill them. They’d put them in the infirmary and let them rest for a day. They’d do everything they could, except the most important thing of all. They wouldn’t question the existence of the death camp itself. They wouldn’t question working the inmates to death, starving them to death, poisoning them to death. And this failure to question the larger framing conditions led these doctors to actively participate in the atrocities.

With all the world at stake, it’s not good enough for us to paste the word sustainable in front of the deceptive word development when what we really mean is “continue this exploitative and destructive way of life a little bit longer.” That destroys the words sustainable and development and, of course, contributes to the ongoing destruction of the world. It wastes time we do not have.

With all the world at stake, we need to not only do what we can to protect the victims of this culture, but we have to question the continuation of this death camp culture that is working the world to death, starving the world to death, poisoning the world to death.

~ Derrick Jensen

Rebelliously Entering The Forbidden Land Of Self-Love

“Our era is calling us into unknown territory. This uncharted place cannot be held in your hand but is a realm within the mind. This is a prohibited realm, as taught to us by our foremothers and forefathers. This forbidden world is the land of self-love.

In many cultures and in many ages, humanity has defined itself as a misfit of creation. Whether it is Adam and Eve as blemishes in the heavenly Garden of Eden, or our current self-assignment as “the planetary pest,” there seems to be a profound sense of non-belonging in our collective unconscious.

Today we are being asked to move beyond this misunderstanding of self. We are being asked to muster enough faith to remember that everything in creation is wanted and here for a reason. We are being asked to re-assume our identity as beloved children of the Earth.

Something alchemical occurs when one holds oneself in one’s arms and says to oneself: “You are precious and I love everything about you: your perfections and your imperfections.” I would challenge you to look into the mirror and say this, but one must be ready for the experience. If you are anything like me, it may trigger some very strange, foreign and maybe even uncomfortable sensations. Not because it isn’t true, but because it has been so many hundreds of generations since many of us have actually said this to ourselves and meant it.

The poem I share here is based on the Diné philosophy that we are not only accepted by Creator and Creation, but that we are celebrated by Creator and Creation. We in turn celebrate Creator and Creation. This all makes for one grand party that my Diné ancestors knew quite well.

In fact, our European ancestors knew this world quite well, too. The only difference between the white woman and the red woman is the white woman’s ancestors were slaughtered and tortured much further back in time. We often forget the 8-9 million European Medicine Women who were burned alive, drowned alive, dismembered alive, raped, beaten and/or tortured as “witches.” We often forget how this not only harmed them, but spiritually wounded their brothers, husbands and sons who loved them. These were the women who prayed to stones, who made herbal medicines, who knew the land and the language of the land. We often forget how this episode and others served to severe our connection to the sacred motherland of Europe and engendered this sense of non-belonging.

Even in the face of this trauma, it is never too late to abandon the lie and enter the forbidden dimensions of self-love. For it is not the Creator who forbids us, but the dark. We are not only permitted by the Creator to enter this land, we are begged to enter it. For only then, will the party start again. Only then, will humanity know the joy it was created for again.

The topic of this poem is Hozhó (zh is pronounced like the j in taj mahal). Hozhó has been translated as beauty, but it means something more close to joy. Joy/Hozhó is the natural result of knowing oneself. Because to know oneself is to understand the grand celebration we are a part of. It is to know, profoundly, without a doubt, that we are loved, profoundly, by the Creator.

There are many things that keep us from feeling loved by the Creator. For women, rape can make us feel unlovable if we think it was our fault. For boys, domestic violence can make them feel unlovable if they believe they failed to protect their mother. It is our divine task to fight through the voices that say we are unloved and unworthy and find our Creator.

Only when we accept the truth of our beauty, will we let go of fear and insecurity. And only when we let go of fear and insecurity can we begin to have a real relationship with Mother Earth. A relationship that is not based on domination, separation, hierarchy, or other forms of insecurity, but a relationship that is akin to the relationship between a tree and the sun. Like this tree, we become the grateful receiver of life who, in the midst of this gratitude, is moved to give life to others, lovingly offering everything it has (shade, fruit, wood, beauty) to all that it sees.

What is really spectacular is when you have a community of these givers. In the context of the forest, even the giver is gifted with blessings unconditionally. It is not a trade. It is two beings that happen to be pouring out their heart at the same time, overtaken by the splendor of living in and as Creator’s design.

This is who we were created to be. Perhaps the pain we feel is the pain of trying to be something we are not. We are not the black sheep of the earth. We are the welcomed sons and daughters of the land. Remember this, and you will be doing your part to heal the whole earth.

Hozhó

It is dawn.
The sun is filling the sky
and my grandmother and I
are singing prayers to the horizon.
This morning she is
teaching me the meaning
of hozhó.
Although there is no direct
translation from Diné Bizaad
(the Navajo language)
into English
every living being knows
what hozhó means.
For hozhó is
every drop of rain.
It is every eyelash.
Every leaf on every tree.
Every feather on the bluebird’s wing.
Hozhó is undeniable beauty.
It is every breath we give to the trees.
And every breath they give to us in return.
Hozhó is reciprocity.
And my grandmother knows this well
for she speaks a language that
grew out of the desert floors
like red stone monoliths.
A language like arms
out of the earth
reaching into the sky,
praising creation for all
of its brilliance.
Hozho is remembering that we are a part of this brilliance.
It is finally accepting that
(yes)
you are a sacred song that brings the Diyin Diné’é
(the gods)
to their knees in an almost
unbearable ecstasy.
Hozho is re-membering our own beauty.
And my grandmother knows this well
for she speaks the language of a
Lókʼaaʼchʼégai snowstorm.
She speaks the language
of hooves hitting the dirt
for she was a midwife and would
gallop to the women in labor.
She is fluent in the
language of suffering mothers;
fluent in the language
of joyful mothers;
fluent in the language
of handing a glowing newborn
to its creator.
Hozhó is an experience.
But it is not something
you can experience
alone
the eagles tell us
as they lock talons
in the stratosphere
and fall to the earth as one.
Hozhó is inter-beauty.
And my grandmother knows this well
for she speaks the language of the Male Rain
which shoots Lightning Boys through the sky,
pummels the Green Corn Children
and huddles the horses against cliff sides
in the early afternoon.
She also speaks the language of the Female Rain
which sends the scent of dust and sage into our hoghans
and casts rainbows in the sky.
Us Diné, we know what hozhó means!
And you! You know what hozhó means!
And deep down I think we know what hozho
does not mean.
Like the days we walk in sadness.
Like the days we live for money.
Like the days we live for fame.
Like the day the conquistadors came,
climbed down from their horses
and asked us
if they could buy
the mountains.
We knew this was not hozhó
because we knew
you could not own a mountain.
But we knew we could make it hozhó once again.
So we took their silver swords
and we took their silver coins
and we melted them
with fire and buffalo hide bellows
and recast them into beautiful
squash blossom necklaces
and placed it around their necks.
We took the silver helmets
straight off their heads
and transformed it into
a fearless beauty.
We made jewelry:
Hozhó is the transmuting of broken bones.
Hozhó is the prayer that carried us
through genocide and disease.
It is the prayer that will carry us through
global warming;
through this global fear
that dances like a shadow
in our minds.
This morning my grandmother is teaching me something
very important.
She is teaching me that the
easiest (and most elegant) way
to defeat an army of hatred
is to sing to it beautiful songs
until it falls to its knees
and surrenders.
‘It will do this,’ she says, ‘because it has finally
found a sweeter fire than revenge.
It has found Heaven.
It has found Hozhó.’
And so my grandmother is talking
to the colors of the sky at dawn
and she is saying:
hózhǫ́náházdlíí’
hózhǫ́náházdiíí’
hózhǫ́náházdlíí’
(beauty is restored again…)
It is dawn, my friends.
Wake up.
The night
is over.”

Copyright 2016 (c) Lyla June Johnston
https://m.facebook.com/notes/lyla-june-johnston/rebelliously-entering-the-forbidden-land-of-self-love/10153776757606007/