Where am I? The other day's meditation told me that it would be very, very long. That I have to enter another dimension of time, to tap into the things that are my questions. It also told me that my father truly loved me. I knew that, but I remembered how much. And also that he needed so much love that he didn't get. He needed soothing, affection, someone to hold him close and tell him that everything would be ok. He the child, me the kin. He was in perpetual distress and we left him there, me and my three sisters, to save ourselves.
The world is quite magical in that it brings to me stories related to my interior journey. An article about a woman who's mother was her abuser, how the adult daughter deals and loves her mother. A new novel I started in which the main protagonist is a translator. My boyfriend found on Facebook that a long lost acquaintance from University who now lives in France, an engineer at the time, became a successful translator from Polish to French. Prior to that news I had paid attention to his translated book, a biography, well displayed in the library. I wonder what it's like to be a translator.
The book that I am slowly reading about MBSR is not entertaining, but it is very enlightening. It says that healing is not the same as curing. Your ailments, your chronic stresses and pains, don't dissolve, don't go away when you are healing. You don't cure them, but you gain a bigger, higher perspective on them. They become part of a bigger system, of life. They have some meaning. And with this perspective you have acceptance, grace. And possibly your ailments can become tolerable, smaller, easier or even just accepted. You have gained a higher vision with lots of other things in it, you are no longer your disease, you are much more then that, you are the whole world and the whole space and the whole time, encapsulated in you, interconnected in the fabric of the world.
I have been thirsty for good stories of quests and self realization. They teach me and support me and accompany me. I read Wild and Want Not, bot excellent and good for me. Want Not is a masterpiece to me. You don't always know with books. A lot of them are sad and depressive, I think the majority are, I wonder why. Maybe to help us relate or gain perspective that some have it much worst? I'm not immune to those those dark, troublesome, psychological stories of crime, of brutal violence. They can be attractive, and mostly they are just so prevalent, but I should consume them less than I do wine, and I'm pretty much done with wine.
Spent the day with sister yesterday, had a long and lovely walk, a bite, then came home and found some clothes that was bought for me, to try on. Beau and his mom do that for me. I know how much this is precious.
Amourx.
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