I want peace.

I've been asking the universe for peace lately.

Be careful what you ask for…

Peace isn't something that is all-of-a-sudden gifted to us. No. We have to work for it! It's something we need to cultivate within ourselves. So, how better to cultivate peace, than by experiencing chaos? Yes, apparently that is the way it works—at least for me.

The universe has been responding to my request for peace by presenting chaotic experiences that help cultivate peace within myself.

That can be really discouraging… I ask for peace, and what I get is more chaos, because when I can sit peacefully through the chaos I will have learned how to experience a peaceful life. Chaos helps me cultivate peace. Ugh…

For a while I didn't realize this, and was pulling my hair out wondering what I was asking for that kept resulting in chaos. I didn't feel like I was asking for chaos—but in this way, I was.

This dawned on me over the weekend. I attended a Reiki III Advanced Practitioner class, and during the attunement there was SO MUCH noise! Car alarms (many of them), chainsaws, barking dogs, people screaming, idling engines… you name it—all within a 10–15 minute span of time.

All this noise was not here prior to sitting down for the attunement, nor after it. During, I noticed my resistance to it, and then all at once realized it was insane, and let go of the resistance and just laughed about it. I realized that the amount of chaos that was happening all around me was there in order for me to cultivate peace during the attunement. It was such an extreme situation where a crazy amount of chaos was presented all around me—chaos that I wouldn't take personal—in order to help me realize what exactly was going on. The universe/my guides/Spirit/God… whatever you want to call it, made it SO obvious that I couldn't miss it. I'm grateful.

Now that I can see that the chaos has a purpose, and is necessary for me to reach my goal of having peace, I can hopefully have less resistance to it. The key is to not take the chaos personally, and allow the insanity of it all to simply roll by without getting stuck to it.

Today was another test of that. Today I learned what happens when I take the chaos personally. It's not as funny. Another lesson learned. I'm grateful for this one too.

Next time will be better. 

What's my biggest fear? An insight into how I inquire within.

I recently attended an Intro to Shamanism workshop, and as I arrived was handed a paper to fill out. At first it had some pretty routine questions, but about half-way down the page I was stopped, and initially taken a-back by one of the questions. Now, given the nature of the workshop, it's not entirely surprising that this question was included. It's understandable that the instructor would want to ask it—not necessarily because she wanted to know the answer, but because I should know the answer. What was the question you wonder?

What is my biggest fear? 

Before I answered the question I looked inside myself and somewhat quickly went through a couple of ideas… really tried to tap into what I'm afraid of, rather than giving a generic, superficial answer.

I ended up writing something along the lines of letting go of things I'm attached to, and moving on.

It's been a few weeks since the workshop, and this question still lingers in the back of my mind. I don't think I answered it entirely accurately. It is hard for me to let go of things and move on, yes… but I don't think that's my BIGGEST fear. I know there's something deeper

I'd like to investigate into it by writing about it here.

Another idea that came to me when I was wondering what to write on the paper, was the fear of death. I initially skipped past it because it seems cliché to me, and somewhat of a surface fear that could use further investigation to fully understand it. 

A friend of mine brings up the "fear of death" pretty often, and I've begun to ask myself what that means to me exactly. I've done a lot of studying on death and the process of dying; where we go when we die; who we really are; what we experience between lives, etc…  and I've experienced personal ego-death from the use of psychedelics, and more recently through the combination of yoga/reiki/meditation. I feel I have a pretty comfortable relationship with the concept of death because of all these things, and I like to think I'd be okay with my own death, when the time comes.

Still, when it comes to the idea of others dying, I resist it. Perhaps this is related to the answer I wrote on that paper—I'm afraid of letting go of Earthly things that I'm attached to.

So, I wonder…
- Why is that so?
- Why am I afraid of letting go of things?
- What am I believing and holding onto that is causing me to fear the loss.

:: I begin to get an emotional feeling in my chest—tightness—resistance::

 
- What is that?
Grief.
My body is remembering what it feels like to lose something.

The feeling of grief is hard. I don't like feeling that way.

- Perhaps the fear is really toward the feeling of grief rather than of the loss of the thing or person?

::tears::

My body talks to me in interesting ways when I do this sort of investigating… I ask questions out into the universe… to whomever or whatever is listening. I'll often get responses from physical sensations in my body—from someplace deep within. I feel a physical release when I touch onto something that rings true. The tightness I've been feeling around my heart has been loosened up, and my eyes have swelled up with tears. That usually means I've hit the nail on the head, and am looking in the right direction.

As I've learned so many times before, the things I'm afraid of are feelings…
Today I've learned that I'm afraid of the feeling of loss.

Now… I wonder…
- Why do I have this fear?
- What is it about the feeling of loss that is frightening?

I close my eyes and put my left hand over my heart and breathe…
I feel into my body… I imagine roots growing down into the core of the earth to center myself. I release attachments to egoic thoughts, and listen to the universe… listen to my body for any shifts, or thoughts that seem to come from somewhere beyond (they sound and feel different from egoic thoughts… more subtle).

I hear my body respond with the word "identified".
I understand it to mean that I've identified with the thing that is going away, and I feel like a part of me is leaving with it. So, when that thing or person leaves, I lose part of myself.

- But is that belief really true?
No. Who I am is not really what I'm thinking I am when I believe that thought.
Who I am is an infinite being, connected throughout all time and space with each and every thing that is manifest and un-manifest in this universe. I cannot lose any part of myself when anything goes away.

::That's comforting to remember::

What is your biggest fear?

More love, for all of us.

No matter how much you care for someone, and wish to see them well, it's not something you can do for them. We can't step into another person's shoes, and change their lives for them. Each of us needs to walk our own path, and each path is individually unique.

When someone we care for is hurting, and upset about the state of their world, what can we do? It may be clear to us what they can do to help turn their lives around, but we can't make them do those things, and if we offer these solutions as suggestions, we run the risk of trying to fix them, and end up pushing them deeper down into their hole, because now they're being judged as broken, too.

Some people end up running in circles, doing the same things, believing their same beliefs, and expecting different results each time, only to be let down even more, again and again when things stay the same.
These people are not broken. They don't need to be fixed. They don't need solutions that we think would make their life all pretty.

They need to be loved for who they are. We all do. Just as we are, with no changes necessary.

It's only by focusing on what we want in this world that it will manifest. By seeing a person as broken and in need of solutions that will fix their lives, we only keep them stuck there. More of the same, because that is what we are focused on. It's a dualistic point of view, and keeps us in a "them and us" mentality. It keeps the other separate—on the other side of a wall.

This is so easy to do, and we are all prone to it unconsciously now and then—we box someone up into a category of being different from us in some way. This is where internal walls come from—the walls that keep us separated and divided; the walls that divide the acceptable things from the unacceptable things.

When we can accept a person, or society, or the world—as it is, and love it anyway… to really BE in-love with it… we are unified, and it's only then can things really begin to change.

That begs the question… What is love?

Love is a word that our society has thrown around, with so many different meanings to each of us. The way I define love here is as a state of being.

Love is a place—a feeling—we can get to within ourselves. When we are there, everything seems right in the world. If we close our eyes and focus our attention on our breathing and are able to quiet our minds enough to simply BE… that is love. It's the state of being where thoughts do not interrupt the peaceful state of BEing. There is no longer a "them" nor an "us". It all simply IS.

When we can release the grip our thoughts can sometimes have over our mind, and instead allow the thoughts to float through without getting stuck, then we are not trying to fix anyone… Instead, in that state of being, where we are not identified with our thoughts, we are not identified with either aspect of the "them" or the "us" and therefore, they are both perfect just as they are. No fixing is necessary. No judging is present.

To be in this state of being (in love), and imagine a person, or society, or the world in there with us, is called "holding space" for them. Our intent, through our imagination, holds a space in love for this person to enter, if they choose to. But, whether they do or not is completely independent of the one holding the space. Whether they do or don't, either way it's perfect, because to the one holding the space, the person is there, in love, with them.

Does this help the other person? 
This is a common desire—to help the other person. While it seems all well and good to bring ourselves into a state of love, it may seem selfish to do so when someone we care for is in pain, and hurting. Our thoughts may tell us that it's not right for us to feel good when they are suffering.

Think of it this way: If we come across someone inside a deep hole, who is unable to climb out on their own, is it beneficial for us to jump into their hole, or to dig another hole beside them in order to help them out? No. It's not. It makes things more complicated, and now two people are stuck instead of one. It's better for both, if we lower a rope, or a tree branch rather than climbing down into a hole. 
When there is a wall that divides us, it hurts the people on both sides of the wall. Both sides feel separated and hurt—unable to mentally understand something about the other side, and stuck in a right and wrong sort of mentality. To compare it to the previous metaphor—they are both in a hole. When either side can transcend the wall (be in love), and see both sides of the wall equally, then they won't identify with one side or the other. That person can then see the place where another person is existing with complete acceptance and love.

Holding space for someone who we previously perceived as hurting simply provides an opportunity for them to climb out of their hole if they choose—it's like lowering a rope. And, as long as we continue to hold that space, and not become attached to whether they climb out or not, then our wall stays down and the ball is in their court to choose love. Choosing love is always a choice.