Private Eyes by moriza

(Seeking God*, chanting ‘Mother fucker’)

More of everything I’ve ever wanted, chanting back at me. How am I to forgive my eviscerated confusion in a nutshell? How can I relax and make any sense of even half of the data flowing towards me? How am I supposed to function in this universe where every instant big, broad major info comes flying at me and where I am supposed to stay on schedule?

I don’t get it. I haven’t got a clue.

Today I am working with this belief: I don’t know how. It freezes me every other second. So how does the belief operate in my life? Well it would invite ways to be confused, of course.

What if I do know how? What if it doesn’t matter whether I do or don’t know how, because a power greater than me is running this thing? The Goddess is at the bow of my boat, God at the rudder, and I’m running around on the deck like a crazy woman shouting “Help, help, I don’t know what to do.”

I’m only helpful if I can remain vulnerable. It’s like the opposite of all the Rock movies. I am the opposite of the Rock. Okay, fine. I will lay down my ridiculous heavy armor and be exactly the way I am. With all my flaws, I am enough. I still unfold like a lotus. I unfold like a lotus anyway, damn it! Teeth clenched, my hands in fists I shout that “I am motherfucking unfolding like a lotus flower!”

Enlightenment: Handled. Killed it, mother fucker.

E. Idle and C. Cleveland in Galaxy Song

I don’t know how. I do know how. God knows how. God is learning through me, through even my mistakes. God didn’t know darkness until she met me. Tendrils of light snake through every place in my chest, ribcage, buttocks, neck, ears, and face. Knees, hips, and toes. All of me opens to reveal fragments shorn off some bigger oneness. I’m supposed to give the seminar here, but all I can give is the ceremony. Welcome, light, I say. I welcome you here in fullness. I now devote my life and my holey cheese mind to you.

Maybe God can make some sense out of all of this brain whiz.

I am reading/learning “A course in miracles.” Today’s lesson involves saying slowly every ½ hour, “I am determined to see.”

The past few times, including 10 minutes ago, my mind kept inserting the word “not” as in “not to see,” so I finally called the part that was doing that out for beholding. This self was saying a giant “F…you,” not only to me and to life, but to God and all creation. She was determined to have nothing to do with this suffering machine. It took a lot of truth serum to get her to begin to soften. I said stuff like, “God doesn’t choose for us to suffer… rather, when we make decisions to separate from God, we suffer, and the more distance, the more we inflict suffering on ourselves and others.”

I said, “The reason you suffered so much in this life was that you had lessons to learn you’d been avoiding, and you really needed to hit bottom to get open to them…” (or something like that). I said I loved her, and eventually, she got willing to join with her source and with life again. (Whew!)

That just happened. So, all that swearing was her rebelling and getting pretty fierce. If I offended anyone’s delicate ears, sorry about that. Holy schnikes. I feel less fragmented and confused. I feel better. Thank you Trise, for teaching me the beholding meditation. So that when the demons within me rise and start fucking telling everyone to fuck off, I have a nice method to work with them. I don’t stuff them back into any bottles where they are likely to break free later and ruin the party. No, it’s therapy in the here and now. Demons are angels who took wrong turns. Calling them home feels so good. God claps.

See, I know how. That’s not the issue. Rather, the issue is when parts of me refuse to sing with the choir and run around in opposite directions screaming and fighting.

Thank you for this opportunity to heal. I am not determined not to see.

Ah, Si!

Thank you and amen.

*Infinite truth-love beyond race or gender.