A Letter to Myself (as if there ever was anyone else)

[Guest guest]

Hi Friends

 

Have you ever stayed awake for a good portion of the night typing up a

gorgeous work of original, one-of-a-kind, divinely-inspired art, only

to have your computer crash and completely obliterate your

masterpiece the moment you were about to hit "send"?

 

Well, that's what happened to me, too, this morning. And it only

didn't upset me for one reason...I had just come to being tickled by

the biggest punchline in the world: that there's no one out there

but me.

 

I haven't written anything for months. Did you notice? The flow just

isn't happening, I told myself. The flow isn't happening? Is the

flow ever NOT happening?? Who did I think I was fooling?!

 

We had friends over for the weekend. They are the kind of friends who

have known us from the inside forever, even though we are just getting

acquainted on the outside. They are the kind of friends who can

bestow blessings all over our lives just because we know they exist.

They see who we are and they care. And when they asked me, "Are you

okay? We miss reading your words. Why aren't you writing?" I gave

a very lame excuse. I said, "The flow isn't happening." But then,

filling the space that opened up when I heard myself lie like that,

the truth came rushing forth and I confessed that right after I had

sent out my last story I got a critical letter from a family member.

"They've found me out," I said, "and now I'm paralyzed and mute.

Every time I put my pen to paper, I shut down."

 

You know what those angels told me? They said, "You have to write anyway."

 

So here I am. And I had a revelation. I am seeing today that my life

has been a series of the same exact story playing itself out again and

again in different scenarios. Here's the naked child shining in its

innocence suddenly becoming self-conscious and then being literally

crushed under the thought: I should be ashamed of myself.

 

Thanks to my dear friends, I started becoming aware of how this took

place in a few painfully key moments during childhood, and then this

morning after the letter had deleted itself and I was brushing my

teeth, I watched it happen again inside my own head when I caught a

glimpse of my body in the mirror. I was stunned to realize that I

have accidentally made a whole religion out of my loyalty to a single

notion - "I should be ashamed of myself"- and that I recreate "the

crush" several times, or more, or lots more, every day.

 

I am facing up to the fact that being an earnest disciple of that

old-time religion in my life has totally been my ticket to anorexia,

bulimia, countless neuroses and other forms of abuse towards myself

and others, including preciously tender, vulnerable and innocent

children...and that the end of that particular road is suicide, which

I've come so close to that I could smell it.

 

So I find myself at this juncture, this invitation of spiritual crisis

where the gnarled finger of ugliness is jabbing me hard in my chest

and shouting You! You! and I am finding that I have a choice. I

can inwardly cringe and curl up and allow rigor mortis set in on

every level of my being, or I can

STAND...IN...MY...OWN...BEAUTY...and lift my chin, spread my arms,

arch my back and sing out my song!

 

I choose to sing!

 

I choose to sing.

 

And see, this is where I get tickled with the ultimate

punchline....that there's no one out there but me. Hee hee. That

behind every pair of eyes that ever looked outwards with judgement or

with adoration, it was always me looking at myself. And that, here I

was, blushing and self-conscious, standing there in my birthday suit,

all alone in front of a mirror in a completely empty cosmos. Now THAT

is a riot!!!

 

After I wrote the last letter, I just knew after I sent it out and

crawled back into the warmth of the bed next to my beautiful baby, I

would completely forget all about it and its contents.

 

And I thought it was funny that later I would probably get an e-mail.

And that I might even get embarrassed.

 

 

But then the computer crashed and saved me from all that.

 

 

Or did it?

 

Ha! Even now there is such gratitude for That which makes this whole

charade even possible!

 

 

I signed the last letter off with "Sending loving light into all the

shadows in all the creases of myself."

 

This time, though, I am signing off with the giggles, too.

 

 

Love to every One!

 

Kheyala

[Guest guest]

Kheyala,

Your family is in your own home circle now, and those of us in this

group who have encountered you are part of your family too. We have

no past with you filled with Not-OKness. So we accept you just as you

are.

 

"As if there was anyone else"?

What is your awareness includes us? The Oneness is never alone.

Brahma includes us all, warts and all. So in Brahma there is no

aloneness. Whatever lies in the past is gone, the future has not yet

come, and you are here now, and in this relative world, so are we...

 

In Love and giggles,

John L.

 

, "Kheyala" <kheyala@n...> wrote:

> Hi Friends

 

That says it all!

[Guest guest]

, "Kheyala" <kheyala@n...> wrote:

> Hi Friends

>

> Have you ever stayed awake for a good portion of the night typing up a

gorgeous work of original, one-of-a-kind, divinely-inspired art, only to have

your computer crash and completely obliterate your masterpiece the moment

you were about to hit "send"?

>

> Well, that's what happened to me, too, this morning. And it only didn't upset

me for one reason...I had just come to being tickled by the biggest punchline in

the world: that there's no one out there but me.

>

> I haven't written anything for months. Did you notice? The flow just isn't

happening, I told myself. The flow isn't happening? Is the flow ever NOT

happening?? Who did I think I was fooling?!

>

> We had friends over for the weekend. They are the kind of friends who have

known us from the inside forever, even though we are just getting acquainted

on the outside. They are the kind of friends who can bestow blessings all over

our lives just because we know they exist. They see who we are and they care.

And when they asked me, "Are you okay? We miss reading your words. Why

aren't you writing?" I gave a very lame excuse. I said, "The flow isn't

happening." But then, filling the space that opened up when I heard myself lie

like that, the truth came rushing forth and I confessed that right after I had

sent out my last story I got a critical letter from a family member. "They've

found me out," I said, "and now I'm paralyzed and mute. Every time I put my

pen to paper, I shut down."

>

> You know what those angels told me? They said, "You have to write anyway."

>

> So here I am. And I had a revelation. I am seeing today that my life has

been

a series of the same exact story playing itself out again and again in different

scenarios. Here's the naked child shining in its innocence suddenly becoming

self-conscious and then being literally crushed under the thought: I should be

ashamed of myself.

>

> Thanks to my dear friends, I started becoming aware of how this took place

in a few painfully key moments during childhood, and then this morning after

the letter had deleted itself and I was brushing my teeth, I watched it happen

again inside my own head when I caught a glimpse of my body in the mirror. I

was stunned to realize that I have accidentally made a whole religion out of

my loyalty to a single notion - "I should be ashamed of myself"- and that I

recreate "the crush" several times, or more, or lots more, every day.

>

> I am facing up to the fact that being an earnest disciple of that old-time

religion in my life has totally been my ticket to anorexia, bulimia, countless

neuroses and other forms of abuse towards myself and others, including

preciously tender, vulnerable and innocent children...and that the end of that

particular road is suicide, which I've come so close to that I could smell it.

>

> So I find myself at this juncture, this invitation of spiritual crisis where

the gnarled finger of ugliness is jabbing me hard in my chest and shouting You!

You! and I am finding that I have a choice. I can inwardly cringe and curl up

and allow rigor mortis set in on every level of my being, or I can

STAND...IN...MY...OWN...BEAUTY...and lift my chin, spread my arms, arch my back

and sing out my song!

>

> I choose to sing!

>

> I choose to sing.

>

> And see, this is where I get tickled with the ultimate punchline....that

there's

no one out there but me. Hee hee. That behind every pair of eyes that ever

looked outwards with judgement or with adoration, it was always me looking

at myself. And that, here I was, blushing and self-conscious, standing there in

my birthday suit, all alone in front of a mirror in a completely empty cosmos.

Now THAT is a riot!!!

>

> After I wrote the last letter, I just knew after I sent it out and crawled

back

into the warmth of the bed next to my beautiful baby, I would completely

forget all about it and its contents.

>

> And I thought it was funny that later I would probably get an e-mail. And

that I might even get embarrassed.

>

>

>

> But then the computer crashed and saved me from all that.

>

>

> Or did it?

>

> Ha! Even now there is such gratitude for That which makes this whole

charade even possible!

>

>

> I signed the last letter off with "Sending loving light into all the shadows

in

all the creases of myself."

>

> This time, though, I am signing off with the giggles, too.

>

>

>

> Love to every One!

>

> Kheyala

 

Hi, Kheyala,

 

We must be cut from the same cloth, although my yardage is older than yours.

I had a dream last week that described your inner process of revealing

yourself/being ashamed. Of course, it has its roots in our family of origin,

and I am not sure it will ever go away. What occurred to me this evening was

that I must voice my inner struggles...that is the best remedy for me. So we

must continue to bring our conflicts to the surface and let them breathe and

be seen.

 

I know that my writing carries me into the territories where my persona is

reluctant to go. It writes about suffering and my ego glosses it over. My ego

is wrong, of course. Conscious suffering is redemptive.

 

The paradox is that people like us better when we reveal the pain beneath the

smile. I have often looked in the mirror when I am crying and talked to the

image that I see, comforting it. What a drag. She's an idiot. It usually ends

up

with me going to bed with a stuffy nose and waking up exhausted.

 

Not that I have solved any problems, but it sure is a relief to know that others

crash and burn inwardly over the same old issues. Not that this is a pep talk,

but I can dig it....

 

Love, Vicki

[Guest guest]

, "skiplaurel" <vicki@b...>

wrote:

> Hi, Kheyala,

>

> We must be cut from the same cloth, although my yardage is older

than yours.

> I had a dream last week that described your inner process of

revealing

> yourself/being ashamed. Of course, it has its roots in our family

of origin,

> and I am not sure it will ever go away. What occurred to me this

evening was

> that I must voice my inner struggles...that is the best remedy for

me. So we

> must continue to bring our conflicts to the surface and let them

breathe and

> be seen.

>

> I know that my writing carries me into the territories where my

persona is

> reluctant to go. It writes about suffering and my ego glosses it

over. My ego

> is wrong, of course. Conscious suffering is redemptive.

 

 

Yes. This, too, is my experience.

 

>

> The paradox is that people like us better when we reveal the pain

beneath the

> smile. I have often looked in the mirror when I am crying and

talked to the

> image that I see, comforting it. What a drag. She's an idiot. It

usually ends up

> with me going to bed with a stuffy nose and waking up exhausted.

>

> Not that I have solved any problems, but it sure is a relief to

know that others

> crash and burn inwardly over the same old issues. Not that this is

a pep talk,

> but I can dig it....

>

> Love, Vicki

 

 

Hey, Vicki, if seeing how goofy your own puffy face can look the

morning after a good, hard cry doesn't get a rise out of you, I have

something else that might make you smile.

 

I sent your fabulous Doubting Tamas story to both Pepperidge Farm and

the Snickers companies, hoping for some freebies for you and Bob, and

the folks at Masterfoods (Snickers) rose to the occasion. They sent

me $18.00 worth of vouchers for free candy and I would love to send

them to you. Will you give me your mailing address?

Kheyala

 

Mazie and b came over to Rasa Ranch for the weekend in order to

celebrate Ananda's birthday with us. Mazie and I talked about you.

We agreed enthusiastically about what a trailblazer and inspiration

you have been for the both of us, and goodness only knows how many

others.

 

As always, dear friend, you are in my thoughts and prayers. There is

so much love! So much.

 

Kheyala

[Guest guest]

Hi John,

> Kheyala,

> Your family is in your own home circle now, and those of us in this

> group who have encountered you are part of your family too. We have

> no past with you filled with Not-OKness. So we accept you just as

you

> are.

 

 

Isn't this totally the best gift we can give to one another?! Thank

you so much for this.

 

>

> "As if there was anyone else"?

> What is your awareness includes us? The Oneness is never alone.

> Brahma includes us all, warts and all. So in Brahma there is no

> aloneness. Whatever lies in the past is gone, the future has not

yet

> come, and you are here now, and in this relative world, so are we...

>

> In Love and giggles,

> John L.

 

 

I hear you, and it seems we are seeing two sides of the exact same

coin.

>

> , "Kheyala" <kheyala@n...>

wrote:

> > Hi Friends

>

> That says it all!

 

Yes! I see!

 

Pranams to you, John.

 

Love,

Kheyala

[Guest guest]

Kheyalove wrote:

> I sent your fabulous Doubting Tamas story to both Pepperidge Farm and

> the Snickers companies, hoping for some freebies for you and Bob, and

> the folks at Masterfoods (Snickers) rose to the occasion. They sent

> me $18.00 worth of vouchers for free candy and I would love to send

> them to you. Will you give me your mailing address?

> Kheyala

>

> Mazie and b came over to Rasa Ranch for the weekend in order to

> celebrate Ananda's birthday with us. Mazie and I talked about you.

> We agreed enthusiastically about what a trailblazer and inspiration

> you have been for the both of us, and goodness only knows how many

> others.

>

> As always, dear friend, you are in my thoughts and prayers. There is

> so much love! So much.

>

> Kheyala

 

Yes Vicki. In all our thoughts and prayers.

 

It's wonderful that Mazie and B came over to your house called Rasa Ranch!

 

Feels good and warm that friendships can be formed and nurtured this way

among the sangha members.

 

Nice to read from you John.

 

Wishing you all well.

 

Lots of love to all

Harsha