I woke up inexplicably mad morning before last. I felt the vague residue of a memory of a dream in which I had rearranged the furniture in our home office (a beautiful detached guesthouse with a fireplace) and it had lost heart and looked ill-proportioned and unfriendly. The furniture was clustered to one side, the bare concrete floors looked more 30’s sanitorium than Lake Tahoe charming and the lighting was fit for an interrogation room with dark shadows and brassy pools of wavering illumination. I was also stewing about a ridiculous situation in which a car that we were trying to junk had required more paperwork than my husband’s US citizenship. I realized we were arguing and negotiations over JUNK. Really? My life included an argument about HOW to throw something away?? I got up to feed the dogs and my husband had not even noticed this kindness and went right out to do the same (as I had stopped in the bathroom first). I finally got to my desk for meditation time and didn’t even like the comics I had left there to cut out for my journal. I was MAD dammit and by this stage it didn’t really matter WHY. Ugh and double ugh.
My plea to Holy Spirit was terse: What the heck??!!! Please help me practice [extending love to my emotions] on this feeling of yuck and mad. Remind,even, what to do. I just want to BREAK something!!!!!!!
HS: Why don’t you tear up the rest of the comic section
Me: I did tear it up and crumpled it into a ball and threw it in the bin with finality. Oddly, I felt slightly satisfied. ( I need to point out I never shred, tear or crumple. I fold my napkin neatly after a meal and place in next to my plate. I fold the newspaper in neat organized, efficient bundles before committing them to the recycle bin. I even rent a personal security shred bin for our home & office which is emptied regularly so I don’t have to take the time to shred our sensitive documents so ripping, tearing, crumpling is far outside of my norm).
At this moment I realized the wind had kind of gone out of my “mad” and I was now feeling a mixture of sad with an added dollop of desolation. My chest felt tight,
tiredness gripped my head and I was flush with heat. My breathing was rapid and I was just vibrating. All I could eke out was “Holy Spirit, what flavor of flipping love can I extend to these thoughts?
HS: entrance……….en-trance
Me: This means nothing to me so I flipped open my “Extending Love to Your Thoughts” cards and drew “I extend acceptance to this thought.” Sigh. So I looked up the definition to “entrance” and was blown away.
entrance: 1. a point of place of entering; an opening or passage for entering; a doorway; the right, privilege or PERMISSION to enter 2. In theater-the moment at which an actor comes onto the stage 3. In music- the point in a musical score at which A PARTICULAR VOICE joins the ensemble
en-trance: to fill with delight or wonder, enrapture
I was laughing and crying at this point. HS had me at “permission to enter”. My brief, very half-hearted, grudging “Help me!” was not only heard but treasured and returned to me in such abundance I was left spacious and melty and even a little bit giddy. These thoughts came streaming in:
My story and personality is a particular thought cluster. I am the truth in which thoughts exist. I am the way, the truth and the life. All thoughts come to me for acceptance and absolution. A creation washing machine allows great repurposing. I am remains the same. (I felt such waves of tingling cascading up and down my body, mainly on the left for some reason). I finally was able to ask HS to please tell me more about entrance and en-trance. (I will post this message later as to not wear you out now.)
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HS: Precious One, Good Morning and blessings to you this fine day and moment. We are so pleased you are awake. Thank you for taking this time to practice joining with your emotions and thoughts of MAD. Notice how quickly you moved through the momentary tightness like a kink in your love hose was unwound without fanfare or suffering.
Salvation Chronicles 