Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Love cannot wear the shield of fear

I hope to speak the soul out loud, though words don't always shape themselves around these concepts. It's been a while since I posted. Three half-written posts fade into data-diffusion, abandoned in the shadows. They weren't what I was trying to say.

I'm learning to live. It's becoming more and more clear that there are two of me.
  1. The self-mask of fear and doubt
    - I wear masks, fearful of what the *other* will think.
    - I tremble behind a veil of diversion, attack before you attack me.
    - What you think of me matters. I count numbers and likes.
    - I must know and be certain, so I can move ahead.
    - I long to be admired, accepted, respected.
    - Love me. Like me. Choose me! I need more.
    - I'm hurt. I'm afraid. I'm upset.
    -  Am I who you think I am? Who am I?
  2. A living patterned in love
    - There is nothing to fear, for love is our unity and protection.
    - Let us lift our veils of fear and reflect each other's light.
    - To be real is more important than unclear reflections and followers.
    - Rather than knowing, I am here to discover and experience.
    - No reputation can trump who I am, ragged or smooth.
    - Love flows from its source. Let me love you.
    - No pain, sorrow, grief, or shame is greater than the growth offered in exchange.
    - I am ... from the beginning designed to realize ... this life in every moment.

I can live out of one space or the other, but not both. 

When I attempt "love through fear" I wear a wall and poke small holes of condescension or concern, then slip my offering with gloved fingers to be caught by the *other* or to fall into the dust. 

After all the effort, I am offended when my contribution isn't recognized. "I tried so hard! You wasted it!" 

Or if they accept, the gift comes wrapped with the inevitable pain of encountering my fear.  

Love is simply present and unassuming. Love is vulnerable and secure. 

Love looks past the fear that twists the vision of those who cause harm, and recognizes the trapped soul hidden beneath that shell as one-who-is-like-me. And so love forgives the soul within the shell for being lost, alone, confused, over-confident, and afraid ... because I am so often there, too.

So when my false self steps forward to act out the traditional plays. When my feelings rise up to scream that I am threatened. When I'm angry, bitter, lonely, or completely right ... 

I'm learning to step back and say, "Ah, she thinks that she is me, again. What lie is she reacting to this time?" 

And the answer to that lie is always ... to love and be loved.

I wonder what it will look like to live real?