I walked to the park and back, yesterday, taking a few photos along the way. It was a much-needed break--one of those where I can forget myself for a while, abandon roles and rules and "survival mode".
I used to think that there was a tremendous amount of resistance in this mind, and maybe fear, around my "responsibilities". I thought that when I faced the daily-grind story with a sigh and a great deal of reluctance, that there was something wrong with me. I love these people. Why the inability to accept that this is just the way it is? (A great, booming voice came out of the sky and said, "Because it's DIFFICULT and TEDIOUS!" Just kidding.)
It is difficult and tedious. There are beauties along the way, but generally, it's a job that requires operation within an artificial system in a way that seems mostly foreign to me, for both the welfare of eternally-dependent people and my own physical survival. Had I not been blessed with this set of circumstances, I would have put a bunch of stuff in a backpack (camera, art supplies, pen, paper) and thrown myself on the mercy of this big world. That is what I think. Do I entirely believe this story...? No. I don't know exactly what I would have done. Am I trapped? No. I can walk away. Will I? Not at this point. So, here I am. I, I, I.
Somehow, the realization dawned that fear and resistance don't belong to this mind--that when the self-image disappears at home, in the thick of things, a physical/psychological tension is there, in the air, so to speak, not produced here, but definitely noticed. It seems to belong to no one in particular, but everyone in general. Many of the people in my house lack the capacity for much self-reflection. There is a very "immature" and reactive way of being coming through and coloring the days. Of course, up springs an insecure child in this body, like a twig surfacing and spinning in a whirlpool. Of course, of course. However, this is the river, and when I remember that, a clarity ensues, and I relax. This place is like some kind of immersion course in independent peace...and constant mindfulness practice.
When I take the body out there, in nature, I can more easily open. There is a softening of the heart and sharpening of the mind, a sort of third-eye vision that is incredibly discriminating, in the sense that it understands its own highly-detailed projections without assuming them like so many shadows. Stepping back, back into vulnerability, raw to each kind of sense data, all of which spring up in my very own body, world-large. I light up with something that feels like an exquisitely painful, joyous love. Full, full, full. Very physical, very warm, no effort in the movement.
It sometimes seems as though I'm on the very edge of a surrender so sweet that I will be destroyed--not some ego, not some woman, but all of it. Right there, under the habitual patterns, singing like a siren...