Returning from the outer silence

Returning from the outer silence

A stretch of time between posts.

Life flows as it will, with me its easily manipulated accomplice.

I have allowed myself to be distracted and restricted by a multitude of things, including a reticence with sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings when they’re following trajectories which I’m failing to anticipate or adequately comprehend. Uncertainty generates a most effective brake on my outpourings.

I’ve been searching, consciously or otherwise, for what feels important. That searching, in its own special way, has created a subtle conflict invisible to all but myself. It’s one thing to believe I know what’s important for me in this life. It’s another thing to know what’s important. Knowing sometimes requires stripping away believing, entering the grey space of uncertainty, trusting that an answer will come. Other concerns have lost my both my attention and much of my interest as a result, though how temporary or permanent such a loss is in some cases I don’t yet know.

Beyond brief efforts aligned to my novels, nearly all literary focus has fallen to the wayside. Marketing and promotion feel too contrived, too superficial, too effortful. Ideas and concepts for fleshing out the bones of the sequels flit in and out of my mind in fitful bursts, but go no further. I even went so far as to remove all the maps, charts, notes and more from each board above my computer. I need, at least for a time, an outer as well as an inner reprieve from them as reminders of what remains incomplete.

Earlier in 2019 the urge to extend myself out into the social/dating scene after a prolonged hiatus won out. I dipped a most hesitant toe. Was I appeasing my ego? How would it fit with practicing the lessons of ACIM? I wasn’t sure, but I still determined there would at least be some beneficial learning in the process if I stayed focused.

At around the time of my last entry here, the script of my life distracted me with a wild infatuation more intense than I could have imagined happening, and more therapeutic than I could have anticipated. I stripped each layer of it apart as it progressed. I offered every part of it that I could up for transformation. There was certainly a lot to learn about the deceptive machinations of my utterly insane ego, the challenge of transforming a special relationship into a holy one, and just how many layers in this particular onion there are yet to peel away. The infatuation has ended, but the learning continues.

I then permitted myself the indulgence of being as present as I could be with my cancer diagnosis, the ensuing surgery and chemotherapy and radiotherapy. I’m sure that for many such a situation is distressing, confronting, deeply challenging in a multitude of ways. I can’t say I had that reaction. Not even close. It did, in many ways, feel more like a most intriguing adventure, with me riding along as curious passenger in many respects. Having always advocated for natural remedies, mind over matter approaches, energy healing and more, I found my willingness to go with more conventional treatment interesting. Everything has gone smoothly. The treatment was effective. The side effects post-treatment were probably the greatest challenge. I may be focusing on not being of this world, but I’m certainly still in it, and the body certainly doesn’t like the toxic hits of chemo/radio. Not one bit. Still, it was yet another round of learning and forgiveness opportunities. And as with the infatuation, the treatment has ended, but the learning continues.

The journey continues.

I have meditated.

I have practiced what I felt able to from within A Course In Miracles.

I have laughed. Sometimes with others. Sometimes with none but myself: more often than not laughing at myself as I catch myself thinking with a mindset of being of this world; or at more blessed times from an unbidden surge of happiness gifted from that part of me not of this world.

I have sat in silence, desiring to be as still and as open as I can be to levels of self beyond this mortal distraction. Will I be struck by some inspiring insight? A brilliant idea? Or perhaps simply a greater state of peace? Sometimes I hope for too much. But the stillness is a welcome blessing in itself. It’s good to quiet the mind, even if for just a little while.

And as I finally put thoughts into words to post, I am witnessing the extra layer of insanity presented through the coronavirus, the lockdowns, the protests and riots. My thoughts on of that, however, are thoughts for another time.

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