The wall

The old structures are crumbling. For the first time in my life I see that there is nothing that I need to do. I was so driven to make a difference in the world. I was desperate to save something and help. I hung my hat on wanting to serve. Now I recognize that I all can do is love what I do and do what I love. We are all in this together and it is happening. Just like the Soviet Union fell, the old structures are crumbling. Bliss is waiting. All I have to do is get into gratitude and ride it. Without gratitude it happens but the difference is immeasurable. It is the difference between being terrified and having fun.

Terror

I am simply blown away. More accurately I am blown home. The concept of meeting terror with radical gratitude is a magic bullet for me. How precious. I have no idea why panic had re-emerged in my life (after a 5-6 year hiatus) but last night as I was falling asleep it was there again with a vengeance. About five minutes after falling asleep I woke with pounding heart and met the process with gratitude. The panic was instantly replaced by joy: total confidence builder. I drifted off to sleep without fear. Round two (probably 15 minutes later) was much, much more intense... it got away from me. In the midst of full-blown terror I grabbed a hold of the concept of gratitude; it was like trying to grab a cord attached to a sail in a high wind. At first I couldn't discern whether I had it because the noise of the wind, the flapping of the sail and the pounding of my heart were deafening. The terror began to subside.

Looking back I clearly feel the essence of what gratitude offered me... presence, Gratitude grounded me in the experience. I remember it all, the texture of my pounding heart, the intensity of the storm. This morning I have a vision of my situation last night: I was on a sailboat in high seas. The environment was raging and for the first time all the pieces were there to handle my situation.

The storm continued all night, I would wake and tend to the necessities of being afloat on high seas and drift easily back into sleep. Today I am rested and empowered - I am seasoned.

FEAR

Fear gives way to relief. Not before taking me through the ringer. Over and over fear has a self perpetuating nature. More fear more fear more fear. Fear says don't get any bright ideas about getting out of here. More terrible thoughts for me to contemplate. I don't want to contemplate those things. Too bad, have another and another dose until I am willing to forfeit and buckle in defeat or at least get back to the very rudimentary tasks of life. The very act of wanting away from fear perpetuates it. The less I want the more I get. Ouch. Built into the fear is a mechanism to keep it around, otherwise it would be rendered useless and no longer serve me. Sometimes I invite the fear to do the dishes eat a meal or brush my teeth with me. It seems to help. Fear demands that I stick to the familiar. Radical gratitude for the fear helps me understand in an instant. Before I had a conscious mind any bright ideas or more acurately radical impulses and departures from the norm would have certainly increased the risk of death. Fear acts as the emotional police. It is a direct reaction to any move out of the box that has brought me thus far. Fear has been my ally for eons. Fear is very basic to what has brought me thus far. I thank the fear and let it go with deep gratitude for it's function in service of me for millions of years.

confusion

Mixed into a voluminous cloud of dust with my own fur flying I am disoriented. I shake my head….. looking sideways and backwards, can’t get my bearing, back away. At that point there is no choice. A voice whispers that if I don’t know what I’m doing I better get the hell out of dodge. Do or Die.

Shredded linen stuffed between my ears, confusion is hard to get a line on. Every time I grasp something ducks around a corner and encourages me to follow. Who was that? Restless, I am discontent to do anything but can’t do nothing. I keep shifting away from discomfort with no destination. Finally, I settle into a tall grassy patch and drift off to sleep. Radical gratitude wakes me to the realization that confusion was my ally. Throughout time, under attack and out of my league confusion forced me to go, keep going, keep moving until out of harms way. What I know is that for eons this was a situation in where danger was eminent and that I was at a distinct disadvantage. Get Out! Just go! Of course I don’t have to know where I’m going, the very fact that I don’t know drives me. If I knew I would know and would have the choice not to go. Confusion is self perpetuating, the more I need to know the more confusion I get until I surrender.

Gluttony

The texture of gluttony is smooth: A seamless hand to mouth action with a top note of arrogance and possibly a distracted trace of remorse hidden beneath the full robust flavor of satisfaction. Effortless and round it goes almost without question. Gluttony is laid out in the shade of a carcas on the floor of the Serengetti. Gratitude for the gluttony shows me that it is the thank god after a close bout with starvation. Gluttony is justified as an ancestral emotion it fortified me with all I would need to weather drought and scarcity. Thank god for gluttony and let it go.