This morning, to mark the occasion of 21.12.2012 or 12.21.2012 and the various meanings, or lack of meaning that has for each of us, I participated in a group meditation via Skype. Together we were in a lovely, and I will say sacred, cyber-space. Apart we were in the U.S, Canada, France, Slovakia and Spain.
Our facilitator spoke of Paladians and something called a Gamma burst and reptilian ships and Agape. Interestingly, I’d just been acquainted with some of this language just two days ago for the first time. But I didn’t know enough still to acclimate myself to the conversation at the level I desired. I became curious. I asked a few questions. They were greeted warmly and the exchange expanded.
I became one giant step closer to Enlightenment after that. I haven’t been particularly seeking enlightenment, as far as I know. I’d only ever wanted Wisdom. Our guide said: “Move from the Spirit of Want to that of Desire.”
I knew just what he meant: “Want,” born from the sentiment of Lack, as in, I am left wanting. “Desire,” birthed from possibility–a wish–as in, “await what the stars will bring.”
I can’t always understand this from the perspective of celestial origins as much as I can linguistic ones.
I think to myself, “Que sera sera?!” I breathe past my knee-jerk reaction, which is the voice of Universal Ego: No free-will is NOT an option! But, this is Sacred Space, and Ego is un-invited, no matter how universal he considers himself to be.
I am a word person, I can’t help it. Some people are visual, some spacial, or somatic or psychic, and so on, and it is through any one of these that the paths to knowing are translated, for them. I need words; I WANT words, I Desire words. I might be inclined mid-orgasm to take notes. If I can’t name it, I discount it, for better or worse. When someone has named something correctly that was before, at least for me, un-named, I call them brilliant.
Only one of the meditators on the call “knows me”. In the space of Ego, though not welcome here, a normal mind-question might be: Who is this stranger who must “linguistically” relate herself to everyone on this call?
In the sacred space, the question naturally changes to: How can we help this curious woman get related to us?
What a shift! Authentic curiosity changes the entire conversation. It adds to the space instead of corrodes it. Authenticity alone changes it. So do words like sacred, worship, reverence, wholesomeness, trust.
As many languages as you speak is as many men that you are, a Czech proverb. I believe by language the meaning is vast. In language one is reclaiming the essence of belief, all belief. There is no good or evil, per se, just the concepts for them, there is no judgment. Illusion exists because it is necessary. Language is the mathematics of the soul. Dance is language. Music is language. Spirit must be defined by language, new language, or it risks further disintegration. Dis-integration.
What came to me in this powerful sacred space, as we meditated on and spoke of gratitude and healing and forgiveness and potential and someone called the Blue Buffalo, whom I still do not know?
I really don’t care who believes what. I actually hardly care at this moment what I myself believe. I don’t care there is no Santa Claus. Furthermore, I forgive you, any of you, all of you, for making it all up.
And I offer in prayer: May we all be wrong, to pave the way for a whole new vision of right, because as another well-known saying goes: Every time history repeats itself the price goes up.
I allow all the old thoughts and old ways to pass with dignity. I allow the old language to shed with it. I welcome and hold sacred space for the new dawn. I accept that there is as of yet no language to greet its coming, but know that with its emergence the language will come. Until then I will never balk at anyone willing to step forward with their knowing or their search, because their language might sound foreign or awkward, or because simply, I have not yet heard it.
“Release your indignance” was the silent voice that came to me in the meditation. An unusual word, I wrote it down, but find few references. In it I “felt” distinctively the meanings of both “indignation” and the French “indigence.”
Knowledge is Power, but it is not Truth. The path to Wisdom is sought where the one to Enlightenment is found.
The illusions have been beautiful, I thank you for them. I treasure them inside as I vow to transcend them outside. So is my prayer for this new year, and so on.