The Broken Dream

I never dreamed it like that – a man, a woman, a child and a dog.

My soul is longing for travelling and settling at the same time, for routine and adventure together.

I always get confused about it when it comes to men. Now I find that there is something in me that is ready to surrender, perhaps to a man but mostly to something big to come and fill me up, to something that will take me in a strong current without knowing my course or direction. And at the same time, I have a deep knowledge that I can make this flow happen myself and I don’t really need anyone.

I find that for now it is good for me to concentrate on the way life evolves, grain by grain.  When I concentrate on the road, there is no shape, nowhere to go and no particular way it should look like. There is only what excites me and there is an examination of every step while it is happening. This is how I feel about men, children and family. At the moment, I feel like smiling at a boy on the beach with genuine joy and with the excitement of discovery, that I might want one of my own one day, and not with fear of how it will be or will it be possible at all. I feel like smiling at children and men, knowing that I will always have love , and that I will have so much more of it.

So I trust the girl who wasn’t interested in dreaming and I want to be the woman who is happy with the way it will come true. At the moment this is enough.

And maybe there’s a different understanding of what I’ve seen or dreamed all these years, maybe this openness I have lived, that we live and take pride in, an openness that says that every shape is possible and right, every sort of family or love, or maybe the unclear form or way of things to be is the real dream, maybe a group of women raising their children together as men come and go is the form and maybe just as a couple? Maybe as good friends, maybe even just raising someone else’s children, a spouse or loved one is enough?

Sometimes there is a sigh of relief. Once I live without a dream, I have a place to create, test, marvel at the created woman and her freedom to create the life and family she wants. Suddenly I do not feel bound by the rules I have not set and which have not come to fruition anyway, and so when I manage not to be alarmed by this created space, I can also rejoice in it and not force myself to stick to a goal. Freedom.

My mom always says that you can’t have everything, that you have to choose, you can’t eat the cake and leave it whole. And I’m always angry and asking why. Why is it wrong to dream of crazy things? Things that do not align with the ordinary, or do not align with the governing form. Why is it wrong to live by a different way of thinking, more and more open possibilities without limiting what is possible or right? Why is it wrong to try to make them a reality?

And that same mother, right now, stands to my right and says – go ahead, there is no time to waste anymore, that it is time to just live and if it is this other life I chose, then go on- live it!

Yesterday I promised her that one day she would be proud of me. I meant that someday I will fit in some sort of slot, that I would settle and she will not have to worry about me. The truth is that’s a lie because my mother will probably always worry about me and at the same time will always be proud of me and especially of the woman I have become. She will be proud that I didn’t stop dreaming, but mainly because I realized that there was no slot I needed to fit, or that it matters if i do.

She will worry, yes, and so do I, sometimes, but only when I fight the pace of life or more correctly with life’s  movement or rhythm, then I mistakenly see life as gaining  property or money and the losing of liberty, when I try to adjust myself and create slots and try to fit into reality.

She is proud of me today and so am I. Proud of the ability to strive for and fulfill this freedom which is without definitions and of a life that is about listening and movement.

The confusion

We walk the world wearing capes, images of ourselves, we think they’re really who we are.

The truth is so much more beautiful. Its movement is so much simpler, wider and smarter. The wonder that is really us is waiting to be discovered. If only allowed.

We hold the cape so it doesn’t drop and leave us exposed and forced to see what we do not want to see ,sometimes we will even try to rebel against it, to be free from it, to be angry at it  – thus only deepening our preoccupation with it and strengthening our belief that this cover is our identity and our destiny. We hold it because we forgot that it is a garment, just one possibility, a certain form that shows a small part. Not the thing itself. 

The gate

When we see the dream and know that it is something we created or adopted rather than our true nature, what we really are, it becomes what nourishes us, inspires us and becomes a playground, a place to experiment with life.

When a dream becomes a playground, it allows us to feel ourselves and see ourselves in situations we haven’t experienced yet, it allows us to discover beauty and wisdom, simplicity and love that are in us and now come to an unknown expression and allows us to see where we are not avoiding, sitting on the fence, sticking to opinions and beliefs about ourselves and the world and freeze in our places. Where do we not let life flow through us and let it take us, carry us.

When we know that the dream is born of wisdom and beauty that is within us, that it is right now and that I want to go through it and make it a play-ground for me, I can also let it break when the time comes and resurrect.

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Morning

I woke up determined this morning, with a decision that today I will not waste the day away and do all the millions of things I want to do and create.

And So I started. I talked to people, got out of my shell and started the movement, where to? it didn’t really matter. I felt the fire burning in my stomach.

And then, with the first obstacle or challenge or refusal, once I saw that things were not going as well as I wanted, I froze.

I know this feeling very well. There is a spoiled little girl in me, who refuses to be told – no, and she inflates that no into such a big mountain that there is no way to get through.

At that moment I see only the refusal and the harshness of the world, the fact that everything and everyone is against me and here again do not understand me at all and do not have my favor in mind, I just hoped again that everything will flow smoothly and again the world has proven to me that nothing will go easy.

Something in me really refuses to believe that if there is some difficulty then this is the right way, if a little more effort is needed then the story is really over for me.

I find it so difficult to cross this threshold, it feels like a punch in the stomach, which folds me in half and at once I give up, failing to see again a passage through this wall.

The funny and frustrating thing about all of this is that if it was a friend that was consulting with me or my sister or any of my patients, I would already find a thousand ways to see through, and I would usually make them see that this is not the end but just another step that needs to be stepped over. Or go under. It does not matter. But in me I have such a wall that I can’t pass. It is easiest to retreat and give up in advance and leave everything as it is, as I know well and live with the taste of the missed opportunity that has become such a familiar taste over the years.

The confusion

My mind tells me that if I have to make an effort then surely I have to give up something. Maybe even something I don’t want to give up on at all. Like my freedom. Or my money. Or I have to compromise or become like everyone else.

The mind tells me that where I am uncomfortable or if something doesn’t come easily then it  is certainly not the direction nor the way, because otherwise I would swim freely.

The mind tells me that there are forces in the world, currently working against me, so that I will fail and remember that I’m not worth it.

Separation, a difficult world that comes to harm me; it’s me against everyone else, I have to fight for what I deserve. Some things I deserve and some things I don’t deserve.

 All of the above are obsolete outdated concepts.

The Gate

The truth is not that there is never any difficulty. Yes sometimes it can get difficult, sometimes things do not come as we wanted and planned. Sometimes we are asked to cross this threshold ourselves. But mostly we are asked to be attentive and submissive to life’s movement  without trying to guess where the current should flow and where we need to go, rather what time it has come to anfold, what path opens and how do I rediscover myself as I walk along it, with everything that might come.

And a voice comes to my mind that says, there is no longer any reason to wait, you can no longer believe that only when all circumstances will be most accurate then the time will be right. Or to wait for someone to come and save / help me .

This time of fear of the world has come to an end. The world misses out on me when I am afraid of it and I miss out on the world.

The truth is that out of a quiet listening, there is no effort and no hard work. There are no mountains to cross and no trolls to be scared of, these are just gone. And that is exactly the difference between knowing and understanding, between effort and silence, between feelings and thoughts and the simple truth.

He is in and out

He is in and out, touched and untouched, does a lot, sweeps many after him and then disappears, closes, and cuts off  from the world.

He is very charismatic, says what others are afraid to say, looks straight in the eyes with a penetrating look, and then sits at home alone, watches TV for hours, does not see friends because he sees it as a great effort and is scared of getting old.

He finds the way to women’s bliss, delights them with his body, knows their desires better than they know themselves and never really had love and a long and evolving relationship.

He flies to Thailand, studies in Brazil, visits a master in Italy and worries that he does not learn enough, that he does not build anything for himself, that he has no property and not even a pension.

He is crazy talented, in all kinds of talents. He creates and heals, guides and teaches, has magic hands and almost everything he touches is admired. He starts and neglects, initiates and gets bored, forming partnerships that dissipate and leaves whoever sought his closeness.

When I listen quietly to what is going on inside him, listening to the same thing that creates his life as it is, he sees the fear.

He is afraid to stay somewhere or in contact, because if he stays, he will see the gap between who he wants to be and who he is. He is afraid that when he sees this gap, and recognizes its size, he will not face the pain and recognition that his fate is doomed to be medium and gray.

The beauty, the vision, the smartness and the light he brings are for him a cover, a mask, camouflage. They allow distraction from the void that is really there, from the defective and flawed and despicable. Therefore, any compliment or amazement from him does not really excite him and is perceived as a success in a battle he has already lost.

The gate

The Man is a mystery that is revealed. One who seeks to see his true nature, what he really is, one who wants to see beyond the scarves, masks and screens that the mind creates – will see.

The belief that says that if I’m not like I thought I should be – means that I am mediocre and lonely, leans on a more fundamental belief that says, that I am something fixed and made, that I am like an object or a machine operation. Hence everything is fixed and given and the world is built from predetermined corridors that once you enter your fate is decided.

The truth is, when I see that I am not where I thought I would or should be, it is a gate.

The truth is, when I see where I came from and what I have, what I understand and what the opportunity is – I actually look from a very narrow place that the mind has created. It is a staging of life, a creation of the mind, a world that is delirious.

The truth is, the particular place I am in now, is the only place I can see myself through. From there, the “I” I have invented can see the beauty of my true nature. Agreeing to see myself truly, opens fields of possibility and beauty that could not be imagined when we are living in the mind.

Mediocrity doesn’t really exist. There are no scales and no standards. A person is not a commodity and is not valued on the basis of its value in the market. Every single person is  unique, with their knowledge and forgetfulness, with their beauty and confusion. Every moment is an invitation for others to see, remember and be. The very encounter with him creates a movement of life and is an invitation for them to see and understand anew.

Staying, feeling, seeing, letting go, re-seeing, being, being, staying. To be like calm water over which the other is reflected, the world is reflected.