Winter on Pendle Hill

From The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have.

I am becoming water:
I let everything rinse its grief in me
and reflect as much light as I can.

We call it love when we do this for another and compassion when we hold this intention for all living things.

Is not one a part of the other in any case. One cannot love something or someone; in fact one cannot love at all without compassion, so why are we calling two things that are essentially different, the same thing?

I have a big problem with this. Generally speaking I try to live my life with love – love for all life: sentient, non sentient, it doesn't matter, I just do, but let's imagine for a moment that I don't. Let's imagine that I just love my family, and close friends and everyone else I just… either like or pay no mind to. In theory, I could feel compassion for one of those complete and total strangers out there, without feeling love for the first, but I cannot say that I truly love someone without the sense of compassion for them. It just doesn't work that way. Not the same thing at all, sorry.

As someone who lives with love, I do, quite often, identify with and take on the pain of others. As a healer, I couldn't do what I do without that. I practice Reiki, and often find that when I'm in a room with people where there is a need for healing energies for someone, my hands – the vehicle of transferring the Reiki energy – will start to ache, somewhat like hot-aches. It makes for interesting times at parties sometimes, or conventions… or cruises.

It's not my first experience with healing – though the story I'm about to tell is one where I was on the receiving end of the healing – that illustrates that love and compassion are linked but not the same.

I was at a pagan gathering, quite some time ago now, which was held on Pendle Hill in the middle of winter. One has to ask whose bright idea that was, but… moving on. The weather was terribly inclement, and all the attendees were camping, yes, in tents, but we had the use of the clubhouse-cum-visitor centre for our activities, otherwise we would have all just gone home, which probably would have been the better thing to do.

Anyway, I was feeling very poorly, not sick, just a very intense arrival of my monthly cycle, and a woman I knew, who was the leader of a local Wiccan coven, and whom I didn't particularly like very much (and so far as I know the feeling was entirely mutual), saw that I was suffering, walked up to me with her tuppence in hand, and said, "Let me take that from you."

She put the two pence piece into my hand, holding my hand in the process for a short while, and I felt a warmth in the connection between us. No I don't mean I suddenly got very warm – although I did, and it was damn cold before – but knowing how we felt about each other, and that she would still do this for me reaffirmed my belief in love for all living things, reminded me that a little compassion can go a long way. I felt extremely humbled. I held on to that tuppence for the rest of the time there at Pendle Hill, and then disposed of it as was fitting.

Life's Gom Jobar

From The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have.

Enlightenment for a wave is the moment the
wave realizes that it is water. At that moment,
all fear of death disappears.
--Thich Nhat Hanh

Enlightenment for a heart on Earth is the moment we accept that it is the loving that makes waves of us all, again and again.

I've always maintained that it is easy to hate, easy to feel bitter and angry and hurt and afraid… the challenge to being human and to endure as a human, is to love – no matter what happens, no matter how difficult things are and no matter who or what has hurt or is hurting you, approach life with love.

There's a wonderful part of a book of which I'm very fond in which this is illustrated. The book is Dune by Herbert, and the part to which I am referring is the testing of Paul by the Reverend Mother Mohaim with the gom jobar. The test itself is one of mastering and conquering his fears, his emotions and his pain… basically, the good RM tells Paul to put his hand in the box, and keep it there no matter what, if he takes it out, she'll prick him with the poisoned ring at his neck, and he'll die. With much effort he masters himself and passes the test. What struck me the first time I read the book (and when I saw the movie and TV series come to that), was the phrase, "take your hand out of the box… young human." (Paraphrasing here I'm sure as I don't have the book/movie/TV series with me for reference).

The difficulty, as always, is mastering yourself to give and to do as you must to remain… human.

Watching Movies With Tissues In Hand

From The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have.

Live humble as a dog
and the world will come alive
in your mouth.

…This direct connection helps bring things alive; it is refreshing. In this way…

I get so very involved in things… books, movies… that kind of thing, I mean – and I cry at the drop of a hat. It's kind of embarrassing sometimes, but the emotional investment in these things is part of what helps the text to be alive for me.

As I've mentioned before, I recently read The Time Traveler's Wife with Mir, and cried like a baby all through the end of it, and last night we watched the movie, Partition the ending of which also brought me to tears, (after wanting to throw things at the screen through the rest of the movie). I have to say also that Kristin Kreuk's performance in the movie was exceptional, as was Jimi Mistry's. If you interested to know what the movie is about you can see it here.