Find your way home.
“Find your way home” doesn’t” is a process to remind us that this is the only conscious choice we have in this life we are living. A reminder.
Home is our truth, our reason for being. It is always there. We forget. It’s the human condition; to utilize our mind in order to survive, and at the same time struggle with the mind’s obsession to find a reason as to why it exists. It is possibly(?) the only thing it has no control over. The mind can’t know it, nor can the mind describe it.
We know it as a feeling.
The mind doesn’t feel. It thinks, it identifies itself, its existence by what it can measure, do, quantify and qualify, judge, possess, destroy and believe. It has an insatiable need to control this existence it can’t explain.
The unknown, the ‘always-changing’ is an anathema to the mind because it cannot find an answer. That it continues to try is not it’s fault. It needs to believe it is powerful, that it will survive.
With power comes feelings of safety, elation, vitality, and dogged fear that it cannot last. Then there are all the manifestations of denying that fear of change, of death, and therein can we indulge our anger at ourselves and others. That anger is palpable.We are creating it, and we feel in control…almost. There’s always the opportunity to lose control…( our mind speaks of ‘loss of control’ in our society as if it is a bad thing and results in literally, no control. How ironic that if, in fact, we surrendered control, or rather the need to control, so much of our fear goes away – as well as the anger at ourselves for ultimately not being able to have control.)
Learning to recognize my fear of helplessness in all its manifestations; anger, depression, obsession, possession, and finding compassion for my self, forgiving my self for being helpless in the face of mortality, is a process. Not an objective to be accomplished, (herein is a whole conversation about ‘learning’ as not an acquiring of information to achieve control over an object, but a process, a stream with its leaves and flotsam floating among its riffs, ripples and backwater eddies.
I can float.