Seeing

Lately I've been thinking a lot on the concept of seeing. Since we decided to create Affirmation Monday my thoughts about seeing, and its role in our personal and consensual reality, have doubled. There's a wealth of material out there (much of it centuries-old) claiming that what we see with our mind's eye and what we energetically concentrate on, is what manifests into the circumstances of our reality.There's a story I love about a man who was held hostage for years in a war camp. Enclosed in a small dark room day after day he entertained his mind by playing round after round of golf. He'd never played in real life, but the game had always fascinated him. So in his head, all through the hours of the day, he'd step onto the green, spongy grass, select a golf club from a leather, virtual bag, feel its weight in his hands, and swing it fluidly through the air to make contact with the little white ball. He'd then shield his inner eyes against the light, watching the ball's arc across the sky, its landing on the fresh-cut turf, and its disappearance into the little black hole  hundreds of yards away. Hole in one. He sank hole-in-one after hole-in-one all day long, enjoying the sensation of the club in his hand, the wind at his back, the sun on his face. Years later, when he was finally released and returned to his homeland, the first thing he did after arriving was visit a golf course. Though he'd never physically played in his life, he'd been playing virtually for years and was curious how the experience would compare. To the amazement of friends and family, the "novice" played a perfect game. Each shot was a hole-in-one.

The power of seeing. It's funny isn't it--not ha ha funny, more ironic-funny--that our powers of visualization can be an incredible asset or a disastrous deficit. The same hole-in-one power of seeing can lead us to becoming the hero of our own lives, or the villain. Now that I'm more conscious, moment by moment, of my thoughts and inward vision, I catch myself on a regular basis seeing fearful things. Imagining them. And while I know that it takes more than a fleeting thought here and there to create a sustained reality, I grow concerned with my repetitious fearful, derogatory, self-defeating thinking. I grow even more concerned when I notice how many of these thoughts get "air time"  before I catch myself. I just don't get it. You'd think we'd have learned, after several thousand years, that lack-ish, "not enough" thinking just creates more lack. More not-enoughness.

Like the stage. People have been telling me for years I should perform; I should voice my original work on stage, whether I am acting, singing or reading. The past few years, as I've gained the courage to share my writing with others, the message has become emphatic, insistent. There's no escaping it. I'll often shrug and say "Maybe." But inwardly, when I track down my visions and thoughts, I realize I'm painting a very scary picture. There's a woman on the stage, but she often forgets her lines. She is awkward, unsure. When she's great, she's inwardly shrinking, trying to fit herself into a small space, a space that won't attract criticism, judgment, humiliation, rejection. When she fails or makes a mistake, she's filled with shame. When she's great, she's filled with anxiety, dread, at the thought of becoming a target.

Since I absolutely, positively know that I am meant to perform, that it's in my very nature, I have been actively working with these mental images and inner voices. Untangling a lifetime of unkind voices and unfriendly visions is not easy, but I find the more I do it, the lighter I feel. In fact, the more I do it, the more aligned I feel--aligned with my soul, my power, my innate grace. I, like you, deserve freedom, joy, love. And gentleness. How can we possibly expect to be treated kindly, gently, while our own thoughts are constantly berating?

What was the last gentle thought you had toward yourself? The last time you treated yourself the way you would your two year old child? And while I'm a big fan of p.j.'s with the feet in them and peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off, I'm talking more about the way you are generous, kind and thoughtful toward a small creature you love--how, when they make a mistake, you tend to laugh or chide lightly, not beat them about the head and neck the way you do to your inner self when you take a misstep.

Another story I cherish goes like this. A woman lies on her deathbed, suffering from pneumonia brought on by AIDS, when a priest is summoned to bring comfort. She shoos him away by saying, "I'm lost. I've ruined my life and that of everyone around me. Now I'm going painfully to hell. Don't waste your time--there's no hope for me." The priest is quiet as he considers her words and, looking around the room, he spies a silver-framed photo of a pretty girl on the woman's dresser. "She's a beautiful girl. Looks a lot like you." The woman physically brightens, eyes lit from within, "Yes, that's my daughter. The one beautiful thing in my life." The priest picks up the picture frame and asks the woman, "And if she was in trouble would you help her? If she made a mistake would you forgive? Would you still love her?" The woman's face melts, "Of course I would. I'd do anything for her. Why do you ask such a question?" The priest runs a finger along the silver gilt on the frame and returns it to the dresser. "Because," he says returning his gaze to the woman's, "I want you to know God has a picture of you on His dresser."

I don't know what your concept of God is. I tend to wince a little when I hear God referred to with pronouns such as "He" or "She," for it seems to put a huge, generous force into too-small a box. For me, God is the universal pulse of love, that energy surrounding you when you feel included, adored, celebrated.  And now I ask you, when you look in the mirror what do you see? When you gaze at the inner looking glass that reflects your thoughts, feelings and attitudes, what appears? How do you think that image differs from the picture on God's dresser?

I've heard enough about our not-enoughness. I'm tired of seeing with the eyes of lack, of judgment. I  wanna know what you see when you look at the picture frame on God's dresser. Then I wanna know how you are bringing your own visions into alignment with that generous, gorgeous picture. And since our thoughts really do shape our reality and what we think on grows, I wanna know what glorious, radically beautiful, sensational, abundant, powerful thought you are thinking on this day. I wanna know what image you're painting of your self, and whether or not it will fit inside the silver frame on God's dresser, for that's the only frame worthy of you.

Comments

[Michelle]

It is my first time to your blog and I was completely drawn in by this post. Amazingly written and could not be more what I needed to read right now if I had asked you to write it for me...thank you for sharing.

[Aimee]

I had never heard of 'affirmation' until the past couple of years. But that had not hindered me from living life in an affirmation sort of way.
I had always been creative. Never a day went by that I wasn't drawing, painting, playing the piano, writing a story, or taking a picture. Every
day I would breath a sort of self-awareness of "I am Creativity", and I would try to guide my steps with that knowledge.

Alas, being young... being naive, being very impressionable, I allowed outside influences to step upon the blooms of my creativity, squashing them
with dirty work boots and leaving them to wilt on hot, oil-stained pavement. The lengthy list of what those are can be saved for another
time of writing. For now, though...the crucial point is that I woke up one day, and gathered all those wilting flowers into my arms, never to be
abandoned again.

I stopped allowing past hurts to poison my garden. I realized that if I didn't want a stagnant pond with green slime and mosquitos in it, that I had
to STIR IT UP! I had to be the fresh-water spring that flowed into it. I needed to be the attentive gardener who spread seeds of growth, who cleared away the gloom
so that the sunlight could pour in. I could not change the past, but I could certainly nurture the NOW, and the SOON-To-BE! I had a gift, and I was letting
others dictate my use of it. I was allowing their careless actions to silence my hands on the piano, and bind closed my sketchpads. And the day I realized I could
say "No more...." with faith that it would happen, was the day when I shot an arrow into that dark and brooding monster of doubt and insecurity.

Now, I live every day with a heartfelt thanks for life, and the gift of creativity. I revel in things both great and small. If I think something is beautiful,
I say it outloud. If I see a ladybug struggling on it's back, I pick it up, and give it perch so that it might take flight again. If the northern lights are in
the sky, I stand outside in bare feet, shivering - so that I might not miss a moment of it. And when I am inspired to create... I create. I dive in headlong, because
the pool in my garden is now fresh, clean, sparkling and vibrant.

So, what would that picture of me in the silver frame be? I think back to when I was perhaps eight or nine years old. We had one of those round, above ground pools that were so
popular in the 70's. It sat in the middle of the yard, visible from nearly all the windows in the house, as well as the nearby road. One day, I walked out to the pool,
and there was a vision in my head so clear, I knew there was nothing else for it but to make it come true. So, while my mother was distracted inside the house, I methodically
plucked every single bloom I could find in the gardens that dotted the yard, and floated the rainbow of blossoms in the pool. Hollyhocks, pansies, poppies, daisies, roses....
there were so many eventually floating on the surface, that you could barely see the water beneath. And when I was satisfied with how it looked, I climbed up the aluminum
ladder and lowered myself in to my enchanted waters - for at that moment, I deeply believed they were at last infused with magic. I very ceremoniously edged my way through the blooms to the center of the pool, and then tipped back, filling my lungs with
air so that I too might float on the surface like the flowers. I closed my eyes, and imagined looking down upon myself from up in the sky where the warm summer sun was
shining. I remember seeing my long brown hair fanning out amidst the petals, and my lanky little body almost lost amongst the color. But most of all, I remember seeing, and
feeling the smile on my face. The hot sun on my mouth. The tickle of flowers and water against my skin. That was the moment I claimed Me. The moment I knew that no matter
what, I would always remember that moment. I didn't know why it was important... just that it WAS important. And so I floated, until there was nothing in the world but the
magic of the moment, and the magic of me.

And now, sitting here today, I realize that was the very moment my picture was lovingly and joyfully placed in that silver frame, forever to be filled with artistry, bliss,
light, and the freedom to simply be myself.

[Gemma]

Yes! Our thoughts do shape our reality, including who we are in that reality.

A beautiful, thoughtful post!

Gemma

[Detta]

This is such a really well written blog post - I teach self acceptance through creativity and I am my biggest pupil - you've captured how so many women and men feel about themselves, their life and managed to put across a really important message with compassion! Thank you

Detta Darnell
www.acreativewoman.com

[Imelda / GreenishLady]

Your questions sit in a lovely, synchronistic alignment with the post I've just made on my blog. My thought is really to focus on what in my life makes me glad and thankful. And it's thanks to a wonderful woman who asked a deep question a few weeks ago.