mon trésor
“This is really why I made my daughters learn to garden—so they would always have a mother to love them, long after I am gone.”
Dear Anias,
How many worlds have I created and destroyed just through the words I've chosen to dictate my experience?
What opens when I separate my teeth and spread my lips?
I treat others to the delights of my private inner world each time I speak. I've never considered my tone- what presence do I have, and what do I want to leave in my absence? I've never fully contemplated what I want to say or how I want to say it.
I am fully settled in Nimes. It is a small town below Lyon and above Marseille. My apartment is full of plants and wood and stone tiles. I can see the cathedral from my window and hear the bells chime in the morning.
Prayers bid me from slumber in Morocco and France.
I've been chanting to Ganesha, Lord of New Beginnings. Spring is approaching, and I will not take my heavy blue coat with me when I leave. It will stay in Berlin. That is my last stop before I return to Rabat.
I took a leap of faith. My heart has never misled me. Thanks to the hope of that little organ between my lungs, I have many experiences and many loves of all kinds!
How I relish the lightness of loving. It is a fantasy to feel this way; every cell in my body vibrates. Whatever reality I create stems from a desire to be closer to one thing: Truth.
My year abroad is coming up and what have I discovered? The shell is different, though; people are the same at the yolk of things.
Politics, environment, religion, and culture; are the coats we draw around ourselves and tie off like a cape at the neck. Sealing ourselves in. Marking ourselves by the colors of our tribe.
If you strip away the armor and silk, what lies underneath it all is constant among our species.
Intellect, emotion, and that Thing that propels us onward. I am learning to call it God, though it can be many names. My God is dressed as an elephant and has been since I was a wee thing.
Clara asked me how I felt about International Women's Day.
I don't feel anything. I find such events superfluous. What it means to be a woman varies depending on the social context. In Africa, being a woman feels very different than being in Latin America or North America.
I have been treated differently based on my location. I am treated differently based on how I look. How I relate to the same gender depends on how I am perceived and received, which is an effort of the physical and not spiritual.
Why celebrate women? Why not celebrate the feminine? The dark, private, soft, strong, delicate, desirous, fertile, receiving, creative inner world that is SHAKTI?
I would have a Shakti Day.
I would honor everyone that relates to the yin energy of the female.
Does it matter what I say if people are going to interpret me as they wish and receive only what they want to hear?
Abderrahmane and I barely communicate with words. Listening to his voice recordings is not pleasing; there are too many slips in our chosen words. Frustration and exhaustion are not the same things. He said excited three times instead of exhausted. I understand what he means, yet when I am not with him, I cannot feel what he is feeling and get frustrated.
It is like being with a child who does not have the language mastered.
I go for the feeling over the spoken word. I tend not to trust what people say. On one level, I know that this is a projection. I value words as a writer, though I know that so much of what is felt cannot be transcribed.
The subconscious is so much stronger and I prefer to step back and intuit what is between the lines. I've never been persuaded to do something I did not want. I've never been seduced. I've never been a victim of someone else's falsehoods. I hit eject when there is a sense of things not quite stacking up.
There is alignment in Abderrahmane. I feel it. And while I do not think we communicate well or understand each other fully in most of our conversations, I do accept what he presents. Because he is offering it with his heart. He is steadfast and honest.
There have been a few hangnails between us.
The word opportunity.
The word relationship.
The word God.
I can see clearly what I am offering him, the opportunities that have opened to him through me. I feel that the construct of our relationship has shifted. We are spiritual friends. That is all. My belief in God is not aligned with his; my God does not offer a reward for good behavior.
Life exists in the tension of the two poles: Shiva (consciousness) and Shakti (matter) and without the opposite, there would be no discernment of the Self. There would only be God.
I am separate, in Christian mythology, because of choice to eat the apple. Free will is what defines us as human beings. The Creator is not biased. Nothing is personal. There is no such thing as good and evil; we only make choices at each moment and the combinations that are created as a result.
Something wrong in one context may be right in another context.
The ability to discern is what allows me to develop my relationship with the Creator.
I've been meditating (sitting with myself) for an hour to end the day. I empty myself of all thoughts and breathe. I don't think. It's not hard. It's boring, mostly. Nothing has shown up yet. I'll keep doing it until I have my answer.
I haven't asked a question- and that's the point.
I don't know what the question is.
I have to shape shift, and I need to be empty for the next phase to take form. I cannot keep framing my surroundings in the way that I am used to. In the past, I would change my physical appearance to initiate and prepare myself. I don't need to do that any longer.
Photo source.
