Being a Victim of Change

Being a victim in and of a changing world
(focusing on white fragility)

In a world that is changing exponentially, in a world where knowledge

of our world is changing exponentially, we can choose to keep up or to play the role of the victim whining about what we do not like and do not understand; either because we can't or because we refuse.

For a long time, I refused to not share anything related to politics or religion on social media because of the compulsive trolls that get a kick out of social media bullying. I get a kick out of people that think they know me more than I know myself and have all the perfect labels and names to call me. I never go to other people's facebook page and argue. I feel that is insulting and crossing boundaries. But I tell them that, although their insults are not welcome on my page, they are free to take anything from my page and start an argument on their own page. (I don't think that works) BUT what has changed is that I will not let someone come at me with this know-it-all attitude that is so prevalent now days without me speaking the truth in love back to them.

This is the email forward sent sent by a family member. Below is my response.

The Email: privilege or fragility?

The content of this email is a perfect example of two of my recent posts:   https://livingwithopenhands2.blogspot.com/2020/04/labeling-categorizing-and-eliminating.html and

https://livingwithopenhands2.blogspot.com/2020/03/the-virus-of-mind-mental-health-pandemic.html 

____________________________________

A Page of Lost Questions

“A GREAT QUESTION refuses to be answered; so it keeps leading us into deeper connections with each other and into deeper thinking.” (Judith Snow)

 ~~~

All learning and all wisdom begins with an open mind and an open  heart that says, “I don’t know.”

 ~~~

Questioning keeps us open.

Openness allows us to learn.

~~~

Questions come

from a heart that is seeking

from a heart that is open

from a heart that is listening

from a heart that is willing to learn.

https://ronirvine.wordpress.com/2009/12/28/living-the-questions/

 ~~~

John O’Donohue was an Irish poet and philosopher who lived in a small cottage in the West of Ireland. He wrote several books including Anam Cara: The Book of Celtic Wisdom and Eternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong. John passed away on January 3, 2008. He was 52 years old. You can access his website to learn more about John and his work.  www.johnodonohue.com

Great Conversation

COFFEE AND CONVERSATION, MY FAVORITE THING

Coffee and Conversation

“When is the last time you had a great conversation? A conversation which wasn’t just two intersecting monologues, which is what passes for conversation in this culture. When have you had a great conversation in which: you overheard yourself saying things you never knew you knew; you heard yourself receiving from somebody words that absolutely found places within you that you had thought you had lost; you and your partner ascended to a different plane; memories of the exchange continued to sing in your mind for weeks afterward?” (John O’Donohue)

Learning to talk "with" each other again

What constitutes a great conversation?

Begin by talking WITH each other rather than talking TO each other.

Begin by listening. No one is interested in what I have to say unless I am first interested in what they have to say.

Begin with understanding. Seek to understand more than to be understood. Conversation is not about me, it is about us.

The Inward Journey

Seeking is an expression of truth,
it is not a way.

Our spiritual journey does not bring us to truth,
truth expresses itself through our journey.

In a sense, there is no “journey.”
It is the discipline of inner work
through which truth is expressed.

“The real voyage of discovery consists
not in seeing new landscapes,
but in having new eyes.”

~ Marcel Proust


“We shall not cease from exploration,
and the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time.”
~ T. S. Eliot

For the 14 years that I have been writing / blogging, there has been a real evolution / revolution of understanding within. One of the most revolutionary shifts came when I realized that there really is no spiritual journey. What I have seen as a journey, if there is one, is like one inch long and 1000 miles deep. What does that mean? That is exactly what I wondered for quite a long time even though I knew there was truth in that statement.

Inward Deepening; Outward Expansion

Letting go and letting come...

I have, of necessity, developed an inner impulsion to grow, to deepen toward my source, uncovering and uprooting my illusions and myths, stories and fairy tales that I can no longer live by; revealing raw reality, unvarnished truth, unmasked authenticity, true integrity. This impulsive drive became a fire in my belly fueling an unstoppable passion to understand that which is real and true while attempting to resolve some of the cognitive, emotional, and spiritual dissonance that is a sort of tinnitus constantly piercing  and clouding my soul.

But this fire in my belly has been dormant for close to 50 years. The domination of cultural influences had its foot on my neck exerting  pressure, very subtly and imperceptibly; just enough to keep my face in the dirt, keeping me unaware that life is so much more than the canned world and life view that I have downloaded. 

Under this impalpable duress, I settled into knowing that I know, content with what I thought I knew; with the status quo remaining rigidly and palpably sacred. This is the natural tendency for most people. That is precisely how cultural myths are sustained. Apart from trauma and crisis and broken dreams; my world view, my myth, would have remained intact. That’s what I wanted. I liked my life except for the heartbreak. But these disrupted the settled illusion of status quo to the extent that I could no longer survive. The foundational values and beliefs that had sustained me crumbled in the face of this upheaval. I felt the storms washing away the sand upon which I had built my All American, Christian house. It was either do or die. I could no longer survive with the same thinking and patterns that had worked for so long. It was then that my eyes began to open and I began to “See” beneath the surface, through the facade that had sustained me.