This morning I visited the Albany Civil Rights Institute and I had the tour with 21 people and I was the one white person. What really is the difference between us, anymore than someone who’s born in the neighbouring town? Nothing, nothing at all. I had a lovely conversation with a few people and once they’d gone, I walked around the place again, this time listening to all of the recordings of people’s personal experiences during the Civil Rights movements and I could feel a part of me was starting to sink into the story of it, into the deep heavy emotions of it, the pain, the ‘wrongness’, the shame – oh yes, the shame. How powerful she is, that shame. She’s so clever. She touches me lightly at first and then so gently she lures me, she tempts me closer and closer until I suddenly find myself in bed with her. It’s like a moth to a flame, pulled, tempted, teased but then burnt, burnt by the very thing that provides its light. Yes, the experience of shame can bring light if and when we’re alert to it and when we are with it, rather than in it as an honouring witness.
As soon as I felt myself identifying with the story, I was trapped but being in that ‘trappedness’, the experience doesn’t actually serve anyone or anything. I then find myself in the mud, getting bogged down and unhappy. Not that feeling unhappy is wrong but being the unhappiness is debilitating, selfish and disempowering.
Yes, feel it to understand and honour it and the people involved as best I can and then thank it and myself for the opportunity for my heart to be cracked open more to love more. Then stop, look up (to open the frontal lobe) and allow the beauty of life in and take myself out of self indulged ‘me’ness’. Say yes, yes, yes to being present again in this breath, this moment which re-connects me with the fullness of all and the infinite, possibilities born of love. Yes to receiving. Receiving energy, receiving guidance, clarity and love.
Yes to this growth that’s happening for me right now as I write these words. Yes to smiling in life, smiling it right into my being.
Half way up the stair is a stair where I sit.
There isn’t any other stair quite like it.
It’s not at the bottom and it’s not at the top.
But there is a stair where I always stop.
That stair is important to me. Now more than ever. That stair feels to represent my heart, my centre, my solar plexus. The place that’s mine, that’s me, that has nothing to do with anyone else or that can be touched or effected by anyone else. Why has this little song come to my mind after so many years? It’s my soul helping me find my Self. Pulling me home, pulling me into that divinity that is me, teaching me, reminding me that it is, I am, so perfectly untouchable, ‘unscarable’ because its greatness makes it so. The Self that’s unique to me and yet is the same uniqueness in all of us. That heart, that soul, that deep down absolute reality of pure, powerful, untameable, passionate love. So divinely powerful, forever pulling us more and more deeply into a permanent remembrance of ‘yes of course’. Oh words, words, words. Wanting to explain, to share, to express and yet so incredibly insufficient. The explanation is in the being’ness of life. It’s that simple. Be all that we truly are and there is nothing else to do. Be with all of our might. Be with every cell of our bodies. Be as though it’s life and death. Enough of the tepid, half hearted stuff. Get in our bodies and live. Live with the passion that blows minds, takes breaths away and cracks hearts open with grace. Live with daring. Go. Not tomorrow, right now, here, in this instant, this breath. Jump in with everything we’ve got. If we don’t do it, who will? It’s up to us. Don’t wait for anyone. Take life and live it. Go!!!