QUARTER CENTURY CELEBRATIONS
It was so much easier to make a compassionate, empowered daughter, than it was to fix my broken family! Not trying to claim any awards here, just speaking a truth long overdue. It was thanks to having a child that I was enabled to step beyond the dysfunctional limitations and strictures I was raised under. Prior to that I was primarily just running away from them. As my daughter celebrates her 25th birthday, I find it exciting to celebrate this quarter century of escape velocity which it pleases me to attribute to her presence. She knows, for I have told her many times, that she saved my life. Or at least that she gave reason and purpose to my existence, above and beyond its primary purpose : which is to be a voice for the voiceless. Otherwise is one not merely a consumer of air and earthly resources? Take away my imperative of being compassion and peace in action, and what would be left? Do I delude myself about this, and in truth has my presence upon the planet not aided a single being out of suffering? Including myself? Purely by dint of my race am I not complicit in all the excesses perpetrated by my kind? The average human would probably think so, but for me the outward appearance is merely a temporary shell. I have met beings who appeared to be equine, or bovine, which were in fact other worldy entities who had donned these recognisable forms for various purposes. Cassius, a black arabian horse I shared my life with for a time, was one such. During the course of our long slow endurance treks, he reached out telepathically, and silently asked me many searching questions about life on earth. Why we wage war on one another, enslave others, and decimate landscapes. He was reluctant to return the favour, saying merely that he had come from an energy planet which lacked individuated consciousness or separate identity. I answered his questions as honestly and openly as I knew how. It was my understanding that he was a ‘walkin’ : that he had entered the body of this horse deliberately for this purpose. It would have been interesting to learn how he got here. For sure, it was a struggle for him, and for the host animal, and he could be a very challenging person to be around! Eventually he seemed to have gleaned sufficient information, and exited the host creature. But not before a couple of twizzling freakouts which left me dumped and bleeding on the ground. He was seen by other people to indulge in stereotypical head swirling episodes and frantic gurning, but of course nobody else realised why. It became clear that our reason for connecting was fulfilled, and consequently terminated. My lifelong joy and passion for horses also withered and dessicated from that point. My rationalisation told me that I could not have surrendered the hold these beautiful animals had over my life, without this sad and strange encounter. As it was, I was freed up for the next phase of my life, and a friend assumed the caring role of the mostly restored black horse, until his early death from twisted colic.
How come so many of us activists working so hard to raise awareness are not living joyfilled lives? Whilst those unawake majority carry on in blithe ignorance, seemingly happy amidst the chaos and calamity? Perhaps they know no different, or recall no sweeter times? Why are some of us allowed to retain recall of peaceable places, and others denied this? Observing fellow activists can be a picture of “agape with woe in its beak”. It is challenging to witness, monitor and express the endless horrors caused by humanity, whilst simultaneously being the change. Holding the higher vision, harnessing the ideals and downloading love and light. Today I watched someone on you tube who has clearly devoted much time, energy and focus into their extreme sport. Nothing wrong with that, and a fine outlet that harms none, is to be applauded. Way more praiseworthy than those who waste time watching them do it, like I was doing – hah! When I had surplus energy I assuredly used it in physical ways, you betcha. My rationale for the accident which continues to restrict my capabilities is that, had I not been ‘taken off court’ I would not have developed the online, spiritual and vocal activism I have turned to.
For the longest time I hoped that demonstrating the difference as myself, in my lifeways, would be sufficient to inspire / infect others to emulate my kinder way of living. Of course I was, and remain, hugely imperfect. Nevertheless, the mere fact that I have eaten no dead animal or fish for more than 40 years, means that I have not supported those rapacious industries. I have also abstained from pharmaceuticals, vaccinations and artificial products as fully and consciously as possible. And I have spoken openly about my lifestyle choices to everyone. There cannot be a single patient of mine, through my 30 years of practise, who did not know I was vegan and an animal rights activist. I always had posters on my clinic walls, and waiting room, and I always managed to get a mention in at least once. Albeit very lightly and non confrontationally. I considered it a bit unethical to rant whilst whistling a scalpel around some captive person’s feet. Yet I knew that on a higher level they had chosen me as their therapist specifically in order to be in the presence of one arguably more aware, awakened and empathic than most.
Humility has forbidden me speaking about some of these things before, but the time is now perfect for me to share what understandings I hold, for the benefit of whomever finds this. I knew my surgery days were numbered when my reserve of patience wore dangerously thin. It became increasingly difficult for me to maintain the veneer of care and concern, for those who demonstrably had neither, towards the millions of suffering creatures on the planet. Fiddling about with inconsequentialities whilst the planet burned. A similar thing occurred with old friends – those who I had allowed closer to me because of their stated vegetarianism and my aspiration that this would evolve to veganism. I regarded it as a serious breach of our relationship when they turned not to veganism but back to eating meat. I had been imagining we had a fundamental respect and ethics in common, when in truth we no longer did, if we ever truly did have in the first place. Veganism is not a diet, it is an outward show of inner commitment. It is a sign of valuing and respecting the sanctity of life, and the inalienable rights of every being to pursue its individual existence. For these friends to have willfully shut off their awareness of this has caused me more personal pain than I wish to say.
Nevertheless I try to stay out of judgement of these friends, to love them where they’re stuck, and to continue demonstrating harmlessness in action to the best of my ability. Doubtless, this is a mutual requirement! I will extend what feels like massive amounts of allowance and leeway, energy and focus, to anyone sincerely expressing the spark of compassion. It is not a matter of love, nor a matter of liking; and it transcends personalities and appearances. My Christian faith assures me that each and every one of the people who crop up in my field of awareness are no other than Jesus in disguise. My decades of ‘A course in miracles’ study tells me that every encounter is either a call to love, or a cry for it. I suspect myself of outpicturing these ‘calls’ : its both not all about me, whilst being simultaneously a reflection of some unacknowledged aspect of myself. Mutual resonance / magnetism / unresolved issues arising, and so on. Therefore, the part of me / apparent other, which persists in avoiding these truths is clearly the place being drawn attention to. One problem has been that my experience of touching these interfaces has been largely confined to people diagnosed as “mad”. Whilst I have deep distrust of almost every form of expert authority, especially clinicians with a snout for symptoms, it could not be denied that these ones sometimes lost touch with their ability to cope with consensus reality. That is different from a rejection of said realities or systems of survival. Most people seem to have developed whole systems of strategy, such as going to the pub, watching t.v., working, and child rearing, which impose recognisable daily structure. Myself, I like prayer and ritual, whilst trying to avoid too much repetitious routine habit. I did not wriggle free from the net merely to climb behind a set of bars, please?
Yesterday, at the end of a shared Holy Spirit weekend, I received the message to push on through to my visionary place. To leave behind the bandaid caring efforts to those still called to perform them. Those of us granted a portion of the new realm, predicated upon assured mutual respect and allowance of all beings as a prime directive, are ushered into, whilst ushering in, the higher earth. Meanwhile the old world crumbles, its systems of control, domination and ownership succumbing to their inevitable conclusion. My long time of alerting and appealing, pleading for clemency and equality for all beings, is rapidly closing. A few more talks, a bunch more words, maybe is all there is left. I felt to be on a vessel passing through a lock, voyaging outward from the limitation, travail and lack currently still prevailing herein. Looking up and out at what I imagined to be myriad star systems, a theeling suggested itself that these were merely ideas with no more substance than any other thought……..potentials only. And probably infinite in extent and scope. Meaning, that my sense of being on an arc was likewise a mere temporary mental construct, for the purpose of conveying my consciousness beyond.