This post is going to be about a few thoughts rolling around in my head. I think. (I never really know where I'm going when I sit down.)
I've been having mixed emotions about the events of last weekend, ie the events that led up to my comments on Rebellion.
The feelings that were dredged up were strange for me. Not strange, as in unfamiliar, but strange, as they no longer belong to me, really. They are a part of my past, yes, but especially in the last few months, as I have been building stronger friendships with my RU Mama's, as I think of them, I've not had any real resentment for my community at large, or its judgments. As I come to be closer to others in a community of people I respect, there are less thoughts or considerations for those that I just don't associate with.
Which I've always really believed in - that everyone creates his or her own world. I've always lived in a grand, magical place. Sometimes boogymen sneak in when I'm not paying attention, but they're usually dispatched fairly quickly. (I think Those Damned Rebels was part of that dispatching process.)
So I've been beating myself up and lamenting that I cannot just be this sublime being who is able to walk on water, materialize things by just opening my hand, enter a state of absolute peace just by knowing that it's possible, and having the ability to quiet any disturbances in a room simply by entering it.
And then I hear my own words (while writing my last blog entry) about until I am ready to let go of the ego, and my individuality, I'm just not ready to be God.
That's always been the issue. I don't think I'm the greatest, or even terribly interesting, fascinating, or wise, or intelligent. But, for some reason, I like me. Isn't that odd? And probably very sad, but let's not drag that in just yet. (I don't mean I'm unlikable, I mean it's really unenlightened that I'm so attached to who I am. Something sort of smirking about that.)
I've actually had this concrete thought for several years, now. That while making ourselves one with The All, - Peace, Love, Completion, we willingly lose ourselves to it.
There is something here that's a bit scary for me... I don't think it's quite that I'll lose myself, and that I'll cease to exist, really, but maybe I do. Maybe (I'm staring out the window as I type this) I've not yet experienced that Greatness enough to be comfortable enough to let it (me) go.
This thought makes me feel so juvenile, and shallow. Makes me feel like I'm a teen-ager who has stolen a car, knowing he's wrong, but wants... Madly... to go on a joy ride. How ridiculous is that? Makes me think I'm a lot less far down the road than I had imagined myself to be, I'll tell you that!
Gonna think about this some more.