Communication

I killed my expectations. I empowered myself and suddenly became self-sufficient by letting go of dependency upon others. I choose to give unconditionally of myself to others, fiercely and without hesitating. I do not wait. I rest in the knowledge that love naturally returns with timing more precise than a clock’s hand shifting to the next second. There is nothing more liberating than this. No longer do I allow myself to wait to act upon the love I feel within. I create and channel love towards anyone or anything at my will. I act out of a love that is beyond the need for any object. It’s love that lives and comes alive on its own and it does not discriminate or judge. It emerges from a place where judgment does not even exist as a concept. The love I feel needs no validation, confirmation, approval or celebration. It’s celebrated silently and self-evidently. Its energy is infinite.

Communicating through love is playful. There is a titillating space between each word exchanged. Communication slows down and the conversation flows and melts together in subtle currents of symbiosis. The conversation makes sense, even when topics are senseless. Love bends and stretches, making room for new possibilities of understanding and connection between us. Continuously allowing that space to emerge will reveal subtle dimensions of beauty in our communications. It will blossom endlessly as the conversation unfolds effortlessly into unexpected directions, which nonetheless have a familiar pattern to them. Love plays with the boundaries of our constructed selves.

We try to rationalize and understand each other through self-assuring frames and boxes, but the eternal love within us is beyond our wills, our ways and controlling urges, beyond responses and reactions and everyday speech. Self-consciousness is the fear of being found out. When someone looks us deeply into our eyes, we are revealed and the shallow constructions quickly fall away. This is what we fear the most and what we often try to run from. We can be vessels for love but we have to have courage to shatter the shells of our beloved personalities and let go of the way we think we manifest in the each other’s discriminating eyes. The boundless and pit less oceans of love within us are always dormant. Sooner or later something will trigger an eruption.

Littered Streets

Our narrow alley minds are trashed by the turbulence of violent thoughts – this is the reality of our current state of collective consciousness.

Still Life Dalston Blues by Ellen
Photo by Ellen Syrjälä http://ellnsrjala.tumblr.com

A bubble wrap of fear surrounds our whirlwinds of thoughts. When someone ruptures the fiercely held and elaborate belief systems we have accumulated and created for ourselves, they never return to the same shape and we must reconfigure our former conceptions of the world and ourselves. Each bubble burst represents the effect of how we have related to a new experience, which has left us feeling attacked and hurt. We wrap ourselves in this illusory blanket of bubble wrap because we are under the false assumption it will protect us from the offending thoughts, feelings, beliefs and opinions of others. The bubble wrap is built on a translucent fear, it is transparent enough to ignore but it easily distorts everything on the outside and within. What we fail to acknowledge is that the bubble wrap of fear is disguised as a disfigured emblem of strength and impenetrable security. In reality, the blanket is easily pierced and deflated when trodden on. Nevertheless, we choose to wrap ourselves in layers upon layers of this useless bubble wrap.

Violence lives within each and every one of us. All of us have feelings of unease, anxiety, irritation, anger and frustration, which come and go frequently. We also carry within us a resilience, which has the power to transform feelings and move us forward with courage and develop new perspectives. Sadly, we can forget our innate resilience and succumb to the impulse to vomit our inner resentments all over others in an attempt to ease our dual minds. This is a futile attempt at ridding ourselves of negativity because our demons will always be lurking around the corners of our more naïve, childlike, untainted and happy parts. When someone triggers a negative mood in us – a feeling of being unfairly treated, disrespected, blamed, humiliated, violated, patronized, belittled, shamed or demonized – we can nurture how we are feeling but we cannot accept their attempt to make us feel this way. The way someone treats us merely reflects the person’s own image of themselves, and we would only strengthen their false sense of self if we were to buy into their irrational behavior towards us.

We are each other’s mirrors. The negativity we despise in others, we are afraid to see in ourselves. The positive qualities we would like to have more of we admire and praise in others. If we believe the negative things others say we are, we fall into the trap of feeling rotten about ourselves; if we fully identify with the positive qualities others see in us we feel pressured to live up to the expectations of being the admirable character that others think we are. We then feel disappointed with ourselves if we fall short and will do everything and anything to hide our mistakes, which are crucial to our growth as human beings and so beautifully expose our vulnerabilities. It is our responsibility to look within and gradually but radically transform ourselves so that we radiate a different quality of being towards everything and everyone in our world.

True catharsis of our negativity is possible only when we suffocate the unobserved wretchedness within ourselves through an an ever growing, all encompassing and deep acceptance of ourselves; the way we speak, the way we think, act and choose in every moment. Only through acceptance of our irrational unconscious urges to do harm can there be change. We will then be capable of seeing beyond the self-destructive need to cast blame and hate towards things that are outside of us. We will no longer spend precious energy covering up what we find repulsive in ourselves with a feigned grace and a self-righteous sense of superiority. We won’t be so offended if someone points out to us our flaws by criticising us because we have already set the intention to accept these parts of ourselves. We can even feel grateful to the person who has pointed us to our shortcomings because they have illuminated places within us where we still have potential to grow.

We will never have complete control over others’ perceptions of us. If we ignorantly buy into these images, it can quickly consume us and make it easy for ‘the threatening other’ to provoke predictable responses of retaliation from us. And if we don’t do anything to check and interrupt our very own reactions -the vicious cycles of negativity will continue spinning, no matter the opinion one holds or which side or an argument on is on.

Fallen

When are we ever truly free,

And undefined by externalities?

Controlling he, controlling she,

Into an aching subjectivity.

 

Can the systems crumble

When you refuse to speak?

Why are you content with mumbling resistances

Beneath your breath?

Are you breathing? Am I breathing?

Everything’s not how it’s supposed to be.

 

The fallen trees make for a mean treat,

For the gatekeepers of this world,

where nothing is left unchurned, unburned or undisturbed.

By distorting they think they can keep,

What little is left of their loathsome meat.

 

They chew it until the stale taste saturates,

Every fragile corner of this world.

Nothing is left unchurned.

Who is casting those deceptive sympathetic smiles,

to hide the rising signals of smoke behind?

A Manifesto for Hereness

You cannot hold it, have it or seek it

It is still there.

It speaks through simple words and gestures,

 Through the lightness of laughter

or unintentional brushes past a stranger,

When eyes and smiles meet self-consciously.

And when there is fear,

You are still here.

Continuously metamorphose your perspective,

Even when you think it does not need changing

 – That is when Mind is tricking you!

If you are conscious with your choices,

You can do it all,

(Not all at once, of course)

Experiment with the newness in the nowness,

Discover, uncover, merge and dissolve,

You will know yourself better.

 Tumultuousness can be felt all around,

 a tearing back and forth

from states that limit us,

Or move us forward,

 Open ears can hear it,

 Open lids can see it,

Open minds can sense it,

Open hearts can feel it.

 Let go,

Let your wild heart into the wilderness it longs for,

And move towards returning desires.

Spring

In this spring,
You are blossoming,
Recognise the infinite cycle,
Of days folding and unfolding,
Up/down, rise/fall.

You can rise beyond the duality of opposites,
Of the fatal either/or,
If you strip away the layers of walls,
to uncover ancient wallpapers,
Beautifully torn, faded, worn.

Be shapeless: forget known forms,
Forget fragments you think you need,
Forget seductive whispers of minds,
Forget you were ever bound to space and time.

Remember your roots,
Remember your revolution,
Remember your natural state,
A state of eternal spring,
And blossoming.

A Page, Turning

She spills her words like milk on a white table. Her speech is empty and full of sentience. ‘Sensitive’ – that’s what they call her,‘sensual’… maybe. She looks towards a lovely future, yet hardly looks him in the eyes when she talks to him about it. She merely fixes her gaze forward, forward. She has that wondrous stare, one he wouldn’t be very good at explaining.

‘I’ll write a book one day’ she said, although she didn’t know whether she could ever push herself to do that or whether it would be good enough. He could hear the doubt in her voice.

She could see it in front of her though, that book, that feeling, and she felt self-assured again, to have that image of herself. She kept this image to herself.

The man was composed. He glanced over every once in a while to see her turning the pages of her book, the smoothe, crisp movements of the pages turning. Her gaze is fixed at the words in front of her. He wonders:what good is it to read ‘The Art of Happiness’ when happiness comes only to go again?

Unconcerned by Uncertainty: an Exercise in Questioning

Why are we so afraid of uncertainty? Nothing is certain.

How can I de-focus from thinking about the illusory intricacies of the future?

What is a good balance of decision-making, action-taking and letting things be?

What would I really like to change?

If I think about my life as malleable and constantly in flux I can more easily let go of “how things ought to be”. Maybe this way I will feel less indecisive and confused by the countless possibilities of what I could do and what I should do. Thoughts tell me I should be doing this or going there, I’d feel best here, I’d feel better if I am there.” There is in fact no need to run away and there is no need to wait. The future will look different no matter what I think. I will ask questions. I won’t wait for the answers.

Do I have a moral compass which helps me navigate my environments?

Why does this particular environment make me feel like I am shrinking?

I have perceived this environment as un-stimulating. The reality is different. My mind is latching on to feelings of fear of what would happen if I in fact saw the reality of things: the vast amount of opportunities etched in every moment. How odd that I have not thought of this before: I can change in any environment instead of blaming the boredom on the environment. Wherever I may be and whoever is there, it is up to me to change my perspective – or leave. Sometimes I only get glimpses of this insight. It is not where I am but about letting go of boundaries and rules I have created for myself in my every day contexts.

Can I let go of expectations and a concern with what everyone else is doing?

Can I open myself to the unexpected and make room for good to come into my life without rushing to grasp for it?

Right now I sit here writing in a state of awareness and boundlessness. It is 4.03 pm but I am no longer concerned with time, it is just a figure. I am no longer concerned with where I have to be in a couple hours or where I have been this morning. I am not really moving anywhere, just being, expanding somehow. Earlier today I chose to tune into the chaos and the movement of my surrounding environment. I was distracted by the turbulence of conversations, voices and feelings. I was looking for answers outside of me and my intuition faded out like at the end of a song. I forgot my raincoat and was soaked up by my thoughts. I know, but sometimes forget, that it is only present moment energy which leads to solutions and discovery of inner knowledge of what I want to attract in my every day life. Shifting my attention to this writing has helped guide me back to presence.

Can I free my mind to write, think and speak without listening to the nagging ego?

Is what I am looking for out there actually within me?

When I started writing this I was thinking about the idea of time and how my mind’s been floating in the future all day. I was thinking about the next meeting with my friend, whether I am going to go to a yoga class or not or whether I want to go to the poetry slam this evening. How futile it seems now, thinking about it from a different space. It doesn’t really matter whether I go to this or whether I go to that. Whatever I choose to give my attention to I cannot change the fact that in reality, I am always in the present moment. This is where expansiveness exists, where things grow and unfold. In this space ideas and solutions of quality arise and desires I have previously clung on to might suddenly surprise me in the form of an unexpected idea, feeling or event. If only for a moment, nothing needs to be fixed and I am unclouded, undefined and unconcerned by uncertainty.  

To fixate

Fixation, fixation you are
my fixation.
You stumble in, I stumble out,
I remain fixated throughout.

Nevermind the time it takes,
I know, I know, this isn’t a race.
But I’m fixated, slightly elated,
Just a little indignated.

Repetition, repetition you are
my repetition.
Repeat to me, repeat after me:
You are never lost,
You have nothing to lose.

My dear, it’s all a matter of time,
Our lives will never reason nor rhyme.
It’s a simple fact, that facts are lost
when you see the bigger picture.

You are slipping, slipping
out of my sight.
I am slipping slipping,
Out of my rights.

These nights when I stare
And look at my walls,
They remain so tall,
They won’t ever fall.

Words

The power of words has escaped me,

Here I am, still rambling on.

The words are unconscious,

They’re open, changeable.

Do they really say anything?

I’m writing to pass the time,

To free my mind,

To relieve my mind,

Am I?

 

These words they are not my own,

They come from afar,

From some floating avatar.

How do I find them? How do they reach me?

I catch them, just like this.

It’s never a hit, nor a miss.

These words don’t say much,

But they are opening a space,

These words don’t mean much,

But what is meaning anyway?

These words bring me to life,

And to some kind of death.