| Subject: My Stuff |
Author:
Cassandra
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Date Posted: 23:00:25 04/27/02 Sat
My stuff always seems to color my perception of your stuff. For instance if I see you as being too mental and not fully here bodily in this moment; well I'd better take a good look at who I'm being in this moment.
Doing that I notice that most moments I AM thinking, most likely as a way of avoiding actually being here with the terror in my body and the uncertainity of each unfolding instant. My thoughts are, in a rather frantic sort of way, marshalling themselves up in a constant barrage of interference. A barrage of what ifs, righteous indignations, hopeful expectations, dreads, arguments for this or that and on and on ad infinitum.
Noticing this I try to stop. No dice, the mind is not having any of this crap. I take a slow walk down to the creek with my dogs and just sit, waiting for the present moment to arrive. No dice as the dogs whine and fuss and start panicking apparently about the effect of stinging nettles on their sensitive little bodies. Sigh.
Coming home, sitting there, the phone rings and on the other end is someone with whom I connect very deeply. Soon I am just Here, where Here is seamless and all inclusive. Here where love is who I am, holding every other aspect of myself in a totally inclusive embrace... The Place, I am in The Place. A place without dimensions, without duration a Just Here sort of place. Feels good.
So to anyone who may ever find yourself the recipient of my projections, I now release you from them and from any judgments that may have resulted from them. I am willing to see things differently.
Lovingly, Cassandra
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