Thursday, December 4
FILMS ABOUT GHOSTS, VOLUME 2
Something of a breakthrough in this morning's meditation, which is as exciting in its future possibilities and implications as its obviousness in retrospect is mildly embarrassing. ;-) (Parse that, I dare you.)
At the outset, the intention was to begin with sending metta to our online friend, Antony Woods from UpasikaTalk. Then I assigned the neutral slot to Tom, the maintenance guy. Lastly, I would inhabit the role of the difficult person. The plan was to do the "breaking down the barriers," version of metta bhavana, radiating the metta outward through the concentric rings of friend, neutral, and enemy.
Beginning with Antony, the mindfulness and concentration was there intermittently; it kept slipping, and the gravitational pull of Planet Childhood kept grabbing me and pulling me away from the metta.
Then, the inspiration: I started sending metta to my inner child.
D'oh! Of course!
Why didn't I start doing this sooner?
The breakthrough came because yesterday, Chris said that I had to stop blaming myself and start having compassion for myself, loving myself, that's the only way to make peace with this stuff.
So there it is: Brian, may you be safe. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live with ease. The image of myself at age 6 formed before the mind's eye: a photograph of me at my sixth birthday party, wearing a green crown fabricated that day in kindergarten using construction paper, Elmer's glue, and glitter. Holding aloft a new G.I. Joe for the camera.
For weeks, this kid has been buffeting and jostling me with these horrorshows to get my attention. I had thought that I was supposed to just watch the movies and offer validation, with phrases like "That must have been really awful, I'm sorry you had to go through that." But that just seemed to encourage more entries into the Atrocity Exhibition.
All he ever wanted was to be loved. So I can give him that. No problem.
This is major. This is huge.