|One can only trust in ones light, and as it grows, becomes more aware, with more consciousness, more pure, we seem to stand back and witness. All the ideas of God and even what I just wrote seem to be washed away. All the words. And all the judgments. Even the idea that their perhaps is no God is no longer at all disturbing.
As I sit with, talk to and live with soldiers, I realize I can not judge them, not at all. Often I wonder about and remember the phrase from the 60’s –“Suppose they gave a war and no one showed up” I wonder here in Iraq, in all my naivety, lord what a thought, if everyone just went home. Just left all the wars all over the world. I look at all the lovely, friendly, mostly young men and women ready to die, ready to pull the trigger, and I do not judge them.
What do I know about all this, in my dream state of bliss? The other day a soldier asked what I would do if some one tried to kill a friend of mine or cause harm? I can not judge. The hardest is not to judge the terrorist and suicide bombers. But I do, and the stories I hear are like nightmares turned to reality. At times, in the far distance, often I can hear bombs exploding at night.
I want to be in the fire and experience it all.
All I know is what I have created, and my focus, on beauty and light.
I have started writing again and noticing excuses not to do so- “the hand hurts” (say what!?). “it takes so much time” (come on Malibu boy !). The hardest part of writing is wanting to express myself and the vast amount of experiences I have had and am having- without trying to re-live them. Or to hear myself be cool and hip or something. I know myself too well to know these are not the reasons. The vastness and depth of all my travels and the richness and varied experiences hurls me forward. I am so totally in the moment in my travels yet also at the same time being in movement. Strange no? From the desert to the Swiss Alps. So drastic a change -- it utterly sharpens my focus and creates a silence and is very profound. The meditation of sitting seems to have been transformed into a tantric, on going, unchanging force. Tantric is the experience. Negating nothing. Can not hold back the pleasure of the breath.
The life alone, no but longer lonely, not at all… for the last few years a feeling of, if you will allow me, self acceptance and grow into a self-love that blows my mind. Sounds selfish but is isn’t. Seems the waiting is over…something like the “other” has become the inner.
So when love shared with a woman is experienced, if even for a day or two, it feels like a lifetime together. When I left my friend, a Chinese girl named Lei, which I have been seeing in Dubai U.A.E. I stood at the side of her bed and saw her lovely body and left, I could have stayed longer, but 7 in the morning seemed like a good time for a walk alone on the streets this middle – east city. Feeling so close to my inner woman, so quite, so centered, so utterly alone-- As I stood their looking at such a lovely woman, feeling so sexy with her and myself. The whole process must have taken me a long time, and finally I cried a tear of joy upon closing the door and seeing her eyes open again. Oh lord Asian eyes!! But ready, as always seems the case, to go, to say hello/ good-bye. The emotions were something like very very sad and very very happy. No, all I speak of is not felt without emotion, to say the least, that part has not lessened in me.
Feeling totally alone, grateful for another day and just starting to accept the concept of death….
As life becomes fuller and fuller it seems to keep expanding and somehow have a taste of death mixed with it. Very tantric, very inclusive…
received this from a co worker. I took time to watch this short slide show and thought I would pass it on. After watching I paused a moment to reflect on what could really be seen. Most obvious to the eye are the uniforms, the weapons, and the war. Most obvious to my heart was the humanity in all these pictures, the evidence of communication without a common language, noble compassion, trust shared amidst sorrow, loneliness as a hopeful companion. Yes, all soldiers wear uniforms. Yes, all wars are fought by soldiers. Yes, in all wars people die. No, not all choose Courage. No, not all choose Honor. No, not all choose respect for others or themselves. War is far away from most of us. It is a reality in many parts of the world, not just the middle-east ...
Narayana Rick Weil