A part of me felt that maybe I should not have posted yesterday’s piece, questioning the reality of the Charlotte N.C. murder. Because the one source that I quoted seems to be the only other person who thinks that.
However, in all the photos I came across on the internet, I never did see any blood on her neck, where she was supposedly stabbed, multiple times.
And for me, my own perception is utterly primary.
This is the question. This has always been the question. No matter how the deep state or other PTB attempt to gaslight us, divide us, feed us fake news and/or twisted narratives, always to generate F.E.A.R. (False Evidence Appearing Real), which, when projected, appears as Hate, we CAN have our own experience, and it starts inside us, at home within our own embodied being. Starts HERE, and then radiates to others in our vicinity.
So I stand by my conclusions re: the Charlotte neck stabbing, however mistaken they may ultimately turn out to be.
And then, wouldn’t you know, a few days later, on the very eve of the 24th anniversary of 9/11, the cold-blooded murder of 31 year old Christian Conservative leader and activist, loving family man with two children, Charlie Kirk, in public, by a sharp shooter from 200 yards away, in the neck, the carotid vein likely, blood visible, immediately gushing out.
I look back to 9/11, 24 years ago, two Jupiter cycles ago. Each one a cycle of opportunity, for that is what the energy of Jupiter calls forth. And where are we? Increasingly divided, furious, each of us tending to see the Other as the problem rather than looking inside ourselves.
It appears that we have not been able to grieve. Not for a long time. Not, at least, since 911. Grieve the loss of our American innocence. Grieve. We don’t know how to grieve. We’re just supposed to suck it up, and continue on.
This is true on an individual level, when a person close to us dies (see my book, This Vast Being: A Voyage of Grief and Exaltation) we are given, at most, one year off from “normal life.”
And this is true on a social, cultural level. Grief is a waste of time. Grief pushes us backwards, not forwards, and forwards is forever. Progress! Keep marching on! Don’t let the idiots get you down!
To grieve is to process our experience. To allow in the pain. To honor it, treasure it, so that it can move, and ultimately dissolve. Without processing, the scars from old wounds calcify, to the point where we are ultimately stopped in our tracks, unable to go on as authentic human beings. Instead, we end up robotic. I wrote about this in 1995.
Personal Processing
On my daily walks I am continuously passing by other people with whom I engage on a soul level, with a brief smile that lights up both of our faces.
This reality differs utterly from the one in the news. The one where they want us to think that all is lost, that we are all idiots, ripe for the picking.
No.
We are not that. And whenever we can tear ourselves away from our screens, and actually meet up personally with others in the flesh, we realize that we are, each of us, a sovereign soul, at one with all.
This morning I took my usual walk, with heart-lifting moments for each of us as we, supposedly strangers, pass each other by with a soul-infused smile, and a murmured hello. My dog helps. Especially if the other also has a dog. Then we all stop, and start untangling their leads; our meeting takes longer and is even more fun.
Last night I attended a city-sponsored event, where over 100 people from neighborhoods all over town got together in small groups to discuss what life is like for us at home. Very interesting.
Tonight we (Green Acres Permaculture Village) hold one of our usual twice-monthly Community Dinners, on the patio out back, with friends, neighbors, and relatives from near and far, all invited.
Though I do spend much of my time alone, I treasure these times with others. For me, both aloneness and community are utterly necessary, both; not one or the other. As with all polarities. The dynamic dance between them is the creative spark.
3 thoughts on “WHICH WAY DO WE LIVE? With fear in our hearts, or with love?”
Hello, Ann..
I looked up your name on whim this morning, from across the years, across the miles. Your words and your story resonate, speak to me, and connect from the very different worlds we have lived since Pierce Street, Twin Falls. The chaos and divisions, the ugliness even in small town Idaho shock and sadden me today. Yes, an old woman…still optimistic. Trying. Sign me up for your written word and shared wisdom!
Wow! Are you Sara Sliger, or another Sara whom I don’t remember knowing after over six decades . . .
Yes, I am that Sara Sliger that played on the tennis court, and made flower dolls out of the hollyhocks that grew by the wire fence. Many, many years and experiences ago. I was thrilled to find your website, literally by impulse today. In despair and holding hope for the common good that we (I believe) espoused in the growing up years of 40’s to 50’s in then small town Twin Falls.