Friday, January 20, 2012

Who I Was, Who I Am.

I hope this post makes sense. And I won't ask anyone to believe it, because I know how that goes.

I remember past lives.

I don't just trust or believe in reincarnation - it's beyond academic for me, and into the very real, very spiritual, personal, and often visceral realm of reality for me. I have remembered lives that span thousands of years. I remember people I know now in some of the past lives, though they hardly ever remember me (I think this has happened twice, ever). I have never undergone hypnosis, this is not borne of suggestion. I don't know how to explain how I remember, or even where to begin how to tell others how they could. I just do. I trust that I remember the lives and the times within them for a reason. To learn something.

This admission on my part is usually met with some level of disbelief, either outright accusations of lying, or some reason how I'm misunderstanding what I remember and feel. Everything from "you're just trying to make your own life more interesting", to "we don't have individual reincarnated souls, it's 'genetic memory'." Any combination, mutation, personal take on these ideas, I've likely heard. I'm not here to defend my own understanding of my experience to anyone. I accept that I could be wrong. I am still learning, after all.

I just know that since the first memory came to me, I knew that I was myself and not myself at the same time. Of course I wasn't the same person I am now, but some part of me, something deep and inner, was within that woman who had a husband and lived in Spain in the 1940's. Same for the prostitute in early Renaissance Venice, the farm girl in Bronze Age China, etc, so forth.

Whenever I do remember, depending on the strength of the memory, my mind can be split for days. And a memory recently did surface this week - and I believe it was particularly strong, because I remembered with someone who was there. We only met briefly in that life, but it was strong enough to throw me into a state of mental limbo for days. I forgot how to start my car, I slipped in and out of English on the phone, I basically felt like my mind/spirit has been stirred, like a jar of sake, and all the sediment that had brewed to produce who I am now, was floating to the surface, clouding the present.

And this brew is strong, and bittersweet.

Any idea that I dream up past lives because they would be better than the present, I can say, right now, that is false in my case. These were painful memories, and not just for me. I wasn't anyone famous (no Cleopatra or Napoleons here). I wasn't a rich woman, a princess, I didn't have a torrid love affair. If anything, I lived in shame, in pain, and died with little note.

I am still working out why it is useful for me to remember - if it was just to remember with my friend, that would be good enough for me. We now share a very strong bond, and I treasure that.

I also know that it is of little use to dwell on these memories, so I am doing my best to let them settle. To remember, and to not re-live it. I think I had to for a little while, but that is only to integrate part of myself into my present consciousness. And to remember the good things, the kindnesses, and take lessons from the rest.

While I fully believe in these memories, I remind myself, and also believe, that this life is the most important. Anything in the past is just that, in the past - while it has helped form the present, and I can learn from that, the only thing I can affect is now.

So I will remember who I was, learn who I am, and make who I will be a full person.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Thank You

I dedicate this to my Mother, Hethert. And to many people in my life, even the ones that hurt me.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Inner Resistance - Daring to Love Myself

The Occupy Love movie project has me thinking on many things in my own heart. As it should, I suppose. Yet, another comment made to me last night also has me searching my heart deeply, and not just about the subject being discussed. The main thrust of it was anger.

Anger at Christianity was mentioned, specifically. I really had thought myself cleared of most of my anger towards Christianity years ago, and while that may be true, but there is still enough present to be noticed by a friend. This made me sad – I don't want to be angry at a whole religion. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that I study and enjoy Gnosticism, am a fan of Kahlil Gibran, and remain peaceful with any Christian I meet, if that person doesn't attempt to convert me. I've since had Christian friends since leaving their faith. But none of this means that I am free from anger, or don't harbor grudges in my heart. This is eating my heart, even if it's slowly. It does not serve me, or anyone else.

How do you let go of anger? How do you purge all the hurt that has been done to you?

I was hurt, and hurt deeply, by the Christian private school I attended in my teen years, by the Baptist theology that was popular there, and by the regular teenaged cruelty cast upon me. Somehow, it was worse when coupled with Southern Baptist worm theology. Not only was I an uncool, unattractive geek, I was also an undeserving sinner and a filthy beggar for God's love, and I was damn lucky to get it, after grovelling and hating myself to my peers' approval.

Is it any surprise to anyone that this left emotional scars and self-destructive habits?

I also get angry at injustice, at the hatred and ignorance of others, at the government, at so many things - and while this is reasonable, even justified, it's not very helpful. Anger is a kind of violence, and I do believe violence begets violence. I want to change my world around me, but I must learn to respond, not react. Reacting only causes others to want to react. There is no understanding there, and Love is pushed out. I want to fight, to make a better world, but I want it to be in Love. Jesus was right, the real revolutionary act is to love your enemies - though I do not believe it to be in the passive, door-mat way I was taught. That was just a way to create a slave. It must be an active love, a love that says "you are just like me, let us both treat each other as humans, this is what we both need and want."

I can't hang on to the anger. It only hurts me, no matter if it is justified. I am eating my own heart, and Bast is never pleased with that. If I want to do senut every day physical purity allows, I must also purify my mind and heart. Anger gets in the way of that. It begets depression in me, and a host of other mental problems.

I must start an internal revolution. That must come first, before I can even attempt to be a part of the outward revolution. I feel the revolution towards Love out there, and I desperately want to be a part of it, to run laughing through all that energy like a kid through sprinklers. But that's only half of how it works. I have to grow Love in my own heart. Anger and Fear are blocking that.

I see a lot of weeping in my future. I will embrace it, with the laughter and the light and the dark. I will love the dark until it glows. Netjer give me courage to do so.

With Love and Hope,

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Dangerous Unselfishness

A filmmaker that I have already vastly enjoyed, through his film Fierce Light: When Spirit Meets Action, by the name of Velcrow Ripper, is doing it again. I already blogged about that film here, and still highly recommend it to everyone, though Netflix removed it from their service (boo!).

His new film is Occupy Love, and is, of course, about the world-wide Occupy movement. The clips I have seen are moving, and I've cried already. It's spurring me, once again, to want to do something. The world is changing, and I don't want to deny the revolution a room at the inn.

I want Love to be enough. Maybe this is all telling me that it is enough, I just have to see it.

In Love,

Friday, January 6, 2012

A heart that hurts is a heart that works

Yes, music is the currency of my spirit and emotions (Thanks Momma Hethert!). I've been angsty and angry again, but it seems even the darker music I love can offer bits of light. And I'm very thankful for this song right now.

Also I wonder sometimes if I could be any more of a romantic. Then I almost explode from it. Maybe that's for another post, though.