Mandorla Consciousness: Part II
There is a time for everything. The dualism that gave rise to our evolving ego and developing Christ potential has become our worst enemy: the anti- Christ. And as long as we repress unwanted parts of ourselves and project them onto others—whether these be our compulsive instincts, dangerous emotions, or frightening aspects of our masculine and feminine sides—we will struggle through the darkness of confusion and the world will be a dangerous place.
Enjoyed your writing thank you Bea Leatherman
Thank you, Bea. It’s good to hear from you.
Thanks for sharing that… it’s always tough to know for sure what’s best “before the fact” as it were… and then experience can only teach us if we’re willing to look at ourselves “after the fact”…as you so beautifully did…
Thank you for the kind words, Kristo.
Thanks so much for re-sharing this little story. I think as humans we chronically second guess ourselves and we also chronically beat ourselves up… I know it is a see-saw ride, but I feel we are always doing our best given what we know at the time and in the circumstances… Hindsight, as my son tells me is 20/20.
If we could all just re-align with our higher selves, our hearts and our intuition… but maybe we are! We’re all also on the path to learning… Sometimes we learn a hard lesson so that when something similar comes around we are ready. Was that your case? That certainly has been mine.
And then there is also the story about the farmer whose ox died and he ran to tell the town wiseman that it was the worst thing that couls happen to him. Don’t you agree, wiseman? he asked… and the wiseman replied maybe yes, maybe no.
The next day, a wild horse appeared on the farmer’s field. He was overjoyed with his streak of good luck and preceeded to tell the wise man in town that it was the best thing that could ever have happened. The wiseman replied, maybe yes, maybe no.
His son could now help him plow the field, but as he was on the horse plowing, he fell and broke his arm. The farmer ran to tell the town wise man that the it was the worse thing that could possibly happen; to which the wise man said, maybe yes, maybe no.
Then the king’s men came through and took all able-bodied young men off to fight but the farmer’s son, with his broken arm was unable to go. How the farmer rejoiced. This is surely the best thing that could happen he ran to tell the town wise man, who responded, maybe yes, maybe no…
So it is for us… we make decisions going on what we know to be true in the moment… when uncertainty strikes, we need to stop and tune into our heart, our angels, our higher self… and ask what is best. That is the only way to NOT have regrets. And even then, our heads can be so loud that we can have trouble hearing the heart… but with practice, like with everything it is all possible. Then we just have to stop beating ourselves up for other things 😉
Thank you for the wise words, artemysos. In answer to your question about whether I’ve experienced how learning a hard lesson prepares us for the next similar thing, the answer is yes. A couple of years after that incident happened I saw an old white dog limping down the same road late one evening. She had a collar with no name or phone number on it, so remembering the shaggy dog I stopped, helped her into the back seat of my car—she was happy to come with me, and brought her home. She and Izzy–my son’s dog who stays with us in the summer–got along fine and after I made her comfortable, she spent the night on the screened-in porch. After a few phone calls the next morning I located the owner and took her home. They were thrilled to have her back, and my conscience was somewhat relieved. But I still think of that shaggy dog every time I pass that way!
That is beautiful 😉 So lesson learned. Tap yourself on the back… I have a feeling we leave ourselves “clues” and you got yours, so a celebration is in order 😉 Blessed be!
Jean, thank you for reminding us how the road not taken has unforeseen consequences. We have all done something similar (sometimes I feel downright “tested”) and wish I had paid attention to “the signs” (they actually remind me how alive the world is). I won’t forget that dog – perhaps he will keep me more vigilant.
Thanks, Diane. I feel the same way about the “signs.” Meaningful coincidences make me think of quantum physics and the intricate, minute connections that are constantly being made in our bodies, minds, the world around us, and between all of these things. I wish I had the eyes to see them, but I guess second best is having the awareness to notice and be grateful for these connections when they show up in “signs.”
By the way, in another beautiful synchronicity, this afternoon I’ve been packing my suitcase for tomorrow’s flight to New Mexico for a women’s retreat. Just before I sat down at my computer and found your comment, I’d packed The Unseen Partner to reread on the plane and before going to bed each night. So much refreshing beauty. Congratulations again on your Nautilus award for it! A HUGE honor! Here’s to vigilance.
“There is no distance between thee and me / just the transparency of this web / my eyes cannot see . . . ” (p. 82). Enjoy the retreat!
Wow! Perfect! Just happened to have that at your fingertips, did you? I’ll definitely reread p. 82 tomorrow! 🙂
Reblogged this on lampmagician.
Oh, Jeanie…what a heart-felt story! Knowing you, I can imagine that this “lesson” haunts you…keeps you thinking…asking the “what ifs”. I’ve done a similar thing with a kitty that I saw get hit but not fatally wounded. She ran off and I often wonder just what happened to her. Choices, choices, choices!
You’re right. It still haunts me. I teared up just reading your lovely reply. It’s often difficult for me to stay in the true ground of my heart, yet I know that’s the only healing way: grieve what has to be grieved, forgive what needs to be forgiven, accept suffering as part of the journey, take the next step that has to be taken without fear or regret. It’s the only way to be free. Love you, my sister. Thank you for writing.
This is odd. Today a dog appeared in my living room, just wondered in my house. Then, later, I found an injured hummingbird in my bathroom. Maybe they are tandem spirits.
Oh my! That is quite an extraordinary synchronicity. I don’t know if dogs and hummingbirds are tandem spirits or not, but there is certainly some meaning in this event for you. Sometimes a synchronicity like this is simply the “universe” or Spirit, or One Mind ‘s way of letting you know, “I am with you. You are known. You are loved.” Blessings, Jeanie
I missed this one somehow and found it in my files today. Oh, Jeanie. How this hurts. Six years ago and it still hurts the heart. I get it and I understand your choice. I tried to help a wild looking dog on my rural road last summer, but it ran away–and I was glad because I was frightened about dealing with a wild or sick dog. What would I have done if it ran after me? It didn’t. I was spared the agony you faced. And the hummingbird, too. We all struggle, doing our best, making mistakes, being human. Fortunately, you reflect on the lessons. Sometimes that’s the only thing I know to do.
Yeah, it still hurts. And yes, sometimes reflecting on the lessons learned is all we can do. But it’s a very good and healing thing to do if we want to keep growing in compassion! Thank you for caring and sympathizing enough to want to comment. I know you get how this feels. And I know you care.