I suddenly feel so reminiscent of my mother’s comforting pass times. I got up before dawn, came down in the dark quiet and meditated undisturbed for as long as I liked. I got up and did a few chores, still undisturbed. I got some breakfast going, made myself a hot drink and sat down in my comfy spot to write. As a child I remember my mom doing all of these things- except not meditating, for sure lol. I feel a sweet sentimental similarity in these little habits. But alas, these similarities are quite superficial.
I see my mother as the guard of her own prison cell. She maintains it with rigid precision and discipline. She, like me, has mystical insights and is quite psychic. She seems so impossibly blind to her rigidity in defining her identity and self as the smallest aspects that comfort her ego. Any kind of gentle nudge, small suggestion, or quiet question about this is met with a ferociously intense attack.
The sad, and hilarious, irony is that, as she creates her prison cell, all of her demons are projected outward and so a need to control her outer environment is borne. I, as her daughter and recipient of her control and demonic projection, and perhaps because of the qualities I was given, brought that essence inward. I was formed with the identity that I myself was demonic, necessitating control by others to contain it, and everything good was projected outward. One of these two constitutions is easier to get out of. It’s mine. Mine is easier to leave because I intrinsically owned the pain. With my mother, the pain is outside. It is always outside and, if she were to let even a small ray of that consciousness aperture shine in a wider perspective, she would experience sudden, intense, agonizing pain. A prison of pain, terror, rejection, fear, futility. A prison she created.
I feel a deepening within myself. A compassion. In many ways, my mother’s life is tortuous. She has no clear way out. She remains isolated and attacks anyone with any sympathy or love for her, me especially.
I’m beginning to see humanity differently. The eternal soul within the superficial shell which is presented. These qualities aren’t the qualities of our soul. They are merely obstacles, challenges, opportunities given us to learn, and to take those lessons into our eternal souls. They might be very off-putting and or gratifying. I was given a particular character of presenting to other human beings a sight that reaches their souls. Whether it is true or not that I do; that is the impression they receive. It’s like every person I ever meet receives a shot across the bow; a surprise message from outside a well defended castle that I see you. That alarm, the scramble to check security, to look for breaches and infiltrators, is as informative as if I had actually seen into their souls. Likewise, the laugh, the gaiety and humorous receptivity to receiving such a message is equally informative. But, my personal challenge is to reach a certain equanimity whether I am confronted with an attack or welcome. To know that these things are merely, superficial.
We are complicated creatures. But not that complicated.
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