*i think perhaps family, more than any one entity, is the means by which all our illusions are shattered... nestled atop our lofty perches in life... gazing compassionately down upon those who have it "less figured out" than us... it is easy to spout off words like compassion, grace.. illumine... Blah.
* and then in pops the voice, the figure, the face of a frank & not quite welcome familiarity... this is your mirror it says.. and not the kind, flattering, low-lit one that hides your flaws & illuminates your brightness.. the one that shows every dimple, every scratch.. every well-worn blemish and pock-mark scar you'd fought so diligently to swathe, to cloak, to hide... but not to abolish... there they are. in full, plain view. a little faded perhaps, but visible.. ugly, all the same. and they're yours'. all yours'. now what is there to do???
*I have a statue of Kuan-Yin who overlooks my driveway and the woods and is the first figure that you see upon turning into my little abode.. the legend.. ... she is a bodhisattva.. a saint.. an enlightened being, who stood on the threshold of nirvana, looking up at its' golden , beckoning light... and then chose to stay behind.. because her heart, her good, great, bountiful heart.. was so full & overflowing.. touched by the pain & suffering of those less fortunate, less-light-ened.. than herself.. she chose to remain.. and be the conduit of light & compassion in their lives.. that is her purpose here on earth. and she calls us to do the same..
* & there are days when her kindly, carved image reminds, bids me gently.. Grace. Let it flow thru you...
* & days when that selfsame statue gives me pause... a bit mocking, entreating.. yes, i know, i know.. compassion.. compassion... gRaCE.. and all that.. easy for you to say you big lump of rock....
* and then there is the face of a sister.... your own.. who shares your eyes, your figure, your voice, some mannerisms, and a past.. and then it stops... for while you would love to take a long walk in the woods, attend a lengthy yoga class or put on some very bad music and dance naked in the living room... she'd prefer to traverse to the mall, perhaps, read magazines, maybe watch a movie.. and she cannot build a fire. ... this last fact irks you most of all because, really, why cannot she be just a little bit more... like... me.....
* and the weekend goes not at all according to plan and then you are at each other's throats and there are the "Fuck You"s and the stone-cold pronouncement of "Bitch"... it's ok to say cuz we're family right?? and you catch yourself thinking.. this is not who i am.. this is not anything i want to be like.. and yet there you are. playing your part. lending a hand to turn the wheel.... to stir the shit. ... this is not me. this is not me. but then.. who???
* In Hindu there are two words for grace... Kripa - as the sweet, flowing, bathing, all-consuming nectar of the Divine.. that bathes us, shelters & surrounds us with that feeling of light & warmth we so desperately need when all else has fallen away.. don't worry child.. in this moment you are safely held...
...
and Anugraha - that fierce, storm-like presence that shakes us to our core.. strips away our comfort, and leaves us hollowed, humbled.. this divine strong medicine designed to "free the soul from its bonds.." help us to arrive (hopefully in one piece.. peace???) at liberation's door. .. a wallop & oftentimes a bitch.. to behold..
* and we ask for grace.. and so often it comes well... damnit, it just comes in the wrong sort of packaging now doesn't it???
* and again.. i am being taught.. "Teach Me How To Love.." and this is part of the lesson... to love what is.. what is right in front of you,.. the gift that came.. and not what you ordered.. for that which we love, or rather, those whom we love merely because they meet our expectations.. behave how we would like.. mirror ourselves in the most flattering light possible.. is this love or merely self-indulgent appreciation? perhaps the real deal.. the heart.. the shit... is to love the seemingly unloveable.. in others.. in ourselves.. you are not what i thought you would be.. every day you do something to disappoint me, to unnerve me.. to dash my high-flung expectations to the wind.. and yet i am here. and i love you. i don't know what this means but i do... i do.
* and the placid, stone goddess in the courtyard smiles on... oh but you do... you do.
No comments:
Post a Comment