September 5, 2017

in Waking Up, Growing Up

Last night I experienced ecstasy. Naturally. Within more-than-human community — communing with trees, stars, sky, the moon.

I am in a hot-tub, fresh pure clean water located at the base of a hill, surrounded by forest. Different than the dense, wild, tangled forest that I love so much on Gabriola Island. This is a pristine forest, pencil-straight trees shooting upward to the stars, the moon gleaming through their branches off to one side of me, half-way between where I lounge in the tub and the tops of the trees. As I look upward the trees tower above me and I can see the star and moonlit sky in the open spaces between their majestic trunks.

I realized that that as soon as I look for words to adequately describe these moments that I find so exquisite and begin reflecting on how glorious it all is, I have already distanced outside of pure experience, no longer present. So here again is another opportunity to truly surrender into now and and suspend mind chatter, assessing, analyzing, explaining.

Writing now, I am attempting to recall some of what I experienced. How long my surrendering lasted isn’t relevant — timeless, unmeasurable.

I believe the Greek origins of the word ecstasy are rooted in ek (outside or beyond) and stasis (standing, standing still.). This fits for my experience. My preference is to go with the idea of my ego having gone out, vacating the premises. Same as when experiencing orgasm I am not thinking about the grocery list or looking at the clock to calculate time. Time stands still, no consideration of the past or thought of the future.

And then peace. My currently somewhat beaten-up body is soothed by the gentle water jets. Breathing deeply with the trees in profound gratitude for their life-sustaining offering.

Yesterday I made a joke about “loving my cancer cells to death” — although to me it is not a joke. I mean it. I have no urge for war, to battle — too much of that throughout the course of my tumultuous life in one way or the other. I consider that perhaps the cell activation and growth was actually stimulated in reaction to my internal battles, conscious and unconscious, and now is the time for peace and unity.

I have never liked that phrase, whenever I hear “I love it/he/she to death” I tend to cringe.

Everyone has their own interpretation, however I tend to go to the image of surrounding another so tightly and thoroughly they are entrapped (my fear I know) and I shudder. Well, seems to me now I see an application for loving to death. This is what I will do with the cancer cells in my body. Surround them so thoroughly with light and loving that they dissolve, cease to exist, die. The necessity to separate, divide, multiply, dominate, take over will no longer be required.

If all growth is on behalf of life, then these cells have decided there is a threat, a division, and they have to break away and form their own “community” for survival. It is the task of my larger, wholistic self-community to reintegrate the breakaway’s, invite them back into the fold so to speak. Address my inner incongruencies and conflicts. Fighting hostility with hostility has infinitely proven not to work as far as I know.

As Bill Plotkin’s work so beautifully encourages, recognize these rogue cells as loyal soldiers — let them know the war is over, time to stop now, honour them for the work they have done and send them to a peaceful retirement, possibly with an alternative for their skills. I’ll think about this one — this must be a complete transformation. What transformation is possible?

Like I say, this is a 30-minute blog so although my imagination is in full swing and there is a lot more tumbling in, time to stop. Another waking up, growing up learning for me that is new:  learn to stop instead of pushing the river.

love, light, laughter, linda