Self love and guinea hens

You--the precious separate self--

Lull when the busy life stops and you don’t know where to turn, what to do, how to think, how to stop thinking, how to witness.

The house suddenly empty after three full weeks of going here, there, up, down, around, under, in between.

No talking, no wondering, no stress, nothing but silence, an old friend, returning to sit beside you once again.

Escaped guinea hens wander alongside the road, pecking, lunching on wood ticks and tiny spiders.  What creatures are these? you wonder and walk down the neighbor’s long curving driveway to ask, “Do you have escaped fowl?”

The guinea hens elude capture and you return to the silent house, waiting, waiting.  Your husband’s brain will be photographed in an MRI this afternoon.   Your daughter, an upcoming maid of honor, is off with the bride-to-be.

Birds call.  Sunlight scatters through clouds.  Here now, gone in a minute.

A friend on Facebook calls you sweet and sexy.  That floors you.  Sexy?  You look down at your oversized “River Hugger” purple t-shirt and ragged shorts and wonder.  How to respond?

A logging truck’s engine roars up the Silver River Hill, a few miles away.  The neighbor’s goat bleats through the trees.  Fawns, almost grown up, seriously munch grass near the garage.

I felt unexpectedly kind and loving toward myself yesterday, and it’s lasted today.  Since when did I quit being so kind toward myself?  I can remember three years ago being totally in love with this being and feeling that love spill outward onto all other creatures, guinea fowl and fawns included. 

Somewhere along this path of life I sometimes started silently reprimanding myself for thoughts, habits, negativities, personality, chattering, existing as a separate being.  All in the name of pursuing freedom, awareness, enlightenment, whateveryoucallit.

Yesterday I remembered that I love this being, this Kathy.  This separate being who has small passions and habits and endearing crazy ways of following her bliss. How could this have been sometimes forgotten, ignored, in the name of Union with Everything?

In the remembrance, I love you and you and you and you even more.

Self-love like this is the opposite of selfishness.  It sees everything as itself and grows wider and wider and wider in this sacred moment.  It is sexy and alive and wears purple t-shirts and admires guinea fowl.


5 thoughts on “Self love and guinea hens

  1. OK, I am going to muse to myself here. I think the challenge is this: as you progress along this path toward self-realization, you begin to feel that the “little self” or the “ego” or the “personality” doesn’t sustain you as much as it once did. It begins to feel worn and uncomfortable and doesn’t fit any more. No matter what you do as a personality–when you attach to that self–it feels like too-tight clothes. You discern that they are too tight. At this point you can either (a) fuss and mutter agains the clothes of self which no longer fit or (b) simply witness and allow.

    I have done both, but see more clearly that the fussing and muttering doesn’t feel kind and easy.

  2. Certainly do recognize the musing and the situation Kath. Valerie Vener in the book The Awakening West was interviewed about similar scenarios, so it seems rather timely that I recently read it and it helped with this you point out.

    If the link does not work, then just google Valarie Vener and click the Google Book link.

    Valarie takes “allowing” to a whole new level. Did me quite a bit of good it did.
    Allowing the humanness opens up love to the whole darn show I find. The love isn’t necessarily an input to awakening it is a realization from the allowing. I had no idea.

    Connecting to the show going on within living through us you just might find out your not just sexy… your RED HOT, steamy, succulent, and more than a little bit sensuously delicious!!!!

    And, no one had to tell you. LOL! You feel it! Woo Hoo!

    I did my time stuck in emptiness and it got pretty darn dry I have to say.

    Holding on to the trapeze the thrill of the up and the wonder of the somersaults coming down to earth only to land unexpectedly in something new.

  3. Having a flood of moments reading this, that are disappearing as quickly as they come, words not able to catch them. What I’ve been feeling? lately, vivid moments of seeing? my life and the stories that are me, very clearly at times, mostly as feelings and sensations, hard to find words that even come close. Memories, past events, individual, collective, thoughts, images….all of the stuff, the definitions, that seem to be the story of who I am, what my life is about but in the middle of this is me, again, who is all of this and yet not any of it at all.
    And this is OK. Sexy, alive, purple shirts and wandering guinea hens. As it is. Perfection.

    Thank you so much Kathy. There is so much love here…..

  4. Hi Ben and Colleen. So sorry I haven’t responded before now. Life is sometimes too full–no, no, I mean “just full enough”. lol! Ben, I just finally clicked on the links and am intrigued. Will try to follow through when there is some quieter time.

    “When you find your centre, you can allow everything thats yours to come into your life.
    When you know you are amazing and deserving then you know you just have to allow it.” –That indeed is a wonderful sentence.

    I feel like in so many areas I love to allow everything, just everything, to flow in. Wide open, completely allowing…

    But there are still a few areas where I’m stuck. Have had a huge awakening again this weekend around at least one of those areas–which has to do with desire. I think if I can totally come to this allowing place around “desire” that it will be a fuller relaxing into that allowing.

    Colleen, I love your reflections~~I always feel the fullness of your humanity AND divinity as you share. Your emptiness and your completeness. Your humility and the beauty of your reflections.

    Thank you, both of you, for existing and sharing of yourselves and your journeys.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s