Thursday, September 2, 2010

Death of a dream, An Awakening.....

Within this human existence, is a percieved reality which is created through experience. My life experience is combined with my perception of other people's experiences. Seeing life through an emotional filter created from our entire past, creates illusions. Much like dreaming does when we sleep.
 As I  realize I am dreaming my world each day. I begin to observe the characters in it. I see reactions to situations as choices. And most of all, I am aware that all life and everything in it is tangible. With this in mind I know my role can be entirely creative.

Life moves like the changing scene of an ever flowing river. My vantage point, the shore. Then from another shoreline, other people dreaming their realities and interpreting their truth to be as real as mine.
 The same river rushes past them, in ways unseen by me, though I too am a tangible character in their dream. Where then? lies the reality of truth? perhaps in the death of the dream itself. The awakening. Non perception, non judgement. To acknowledge emotions as doorways rather than boxes. Signposts on pathways pointing to perhaps...? The only end is perceptual.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, late in July. I had been trying to reach my Sister Kathie by phone. Her Birthday was the next day and I had hoped to take her to dinner. Kathie had been battling for many years, alcoholism and life in general. It was a common experience for me that she would not answer my calls. This was just one of the many catalyst for me to learn about perceptual reality.
Watching  my loved one personally destroy her health and any hope of happiness with alcohol has to be one of the greatest lessons in acceptance I have ever known.

I phoned my Brother who lived just a mile from Kathie, and asked if he would go and check on her? After weeks of calling her the answering machine was full, and would not accept any more messages. He said he would. I had no idea what I was asking of him in this moment. We both believed he would find her hold up in her home.

Within an hour I received a call that would shatter all concepts I may have had of what truth was for me, and for Kathie. I believed I knew her. I felt she spoke to me of her pain. On this fateful day  I came to find out I knew nothing.

My Brother called and said, "Mary you must come here now. She is dead, she put a knife in her heart "  I can never express in words the experience I felt witnessing the complete implosion of my truth.

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