I See You

Kaleidoscope_13I see you. You are not invisible to me. When I look at you, you wear no clothes. You wear no physical form. There is a ball around your body that lights up when you’re around people you like and dims when you’re not fond of them. The ball has colors and patterns that are spectacularly blended to me. I see you.

You’re a kaleidoscope of vivid colors that ebb and flow depending on how you move the liquid essence that you float in unwittingly. Where there is pain, I see the darkness. Where there is love, I see the light. Where you reside is usually a central color that tells me everything I need to know about you. I am a voyeur of sorts but not the creepy kind. I will not jump from your closet unexpectedly one night. I will meet you on the terms you’ve established. Because I can feel your intent.

I’m sorry if you feel I’ve invaded your privacy. I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t really don’t want to because it’s served me so well. It’s proven invaluable to me to seek others of the light. It’s proven invaluable to me when I know I can’t trust a person because they are too consumed by material things to know they’re spiritual beings. It’s guided me effectively to incredible experiences through people with knowledge so deeply profound that I sometimes weep with gratefulness while others cause me deep caution.

It’s a feeling of authentic appreciation of identity that can only bloom with the watering of confidence when I see people that fit into their spirits; That “get it”. When I see someone working actively to grow into their spirits, I can forgive almost anything they do because I witness the evolution of color as if a perfect painting were in the works and I get to watch the brushstrokes fall on the canvas. It’s glorious to see. My gift allows me the privilege without effort.

There are also people who are not exactly dark and not exactly light. They are in a flux between worlds. The material world grabs their ankles and wrists tugging them away from their destiny. Their spirit self does a watoosie trying to find footing, trying to fill in the blanks. There are some that stand in this disarray and cry out that they don’t know who they are or that they don’t know what they’re doing. Nobody knows for sure what we’re doing. We just come up with a plan and see how it pans out. If we’re lucky, we have guides to show us the way out. I am one of those guides but I don’t know everything.

It is increasingly difficult when I feel as if I am carrying/dragging them towards the light. They start off saying, “Oh yes! I really want to do something different and I really like your ideas. Let’s go on this journey together.” I comply and we have long talks deep into the night. The kind that feels like it is the most important conversation I’ll ever have. For that moment in time that glimpse into the moonlight or the daylight it truly is. The intensity can’t be matched because it is so relevant. It is crucially real. But they fall back asleep and forget that we’d every spoken the conversation. With some, that shine so brightly but fear themselves, I keep trying to wake them up because I believe they need to be; because they said they wanted to be.

I don’t say anything to people who are dark. I don’t squeal with delight when I see them. Their wounds run far too deep for me to do anything other than shine a light at the end of their tunnel and coax them from sleep if they’re ready. There have been times when words came out of my mouth that weren’t mine but were intended for a particular person. Just like that, it’s as if a small miracle, sometimes large, happens but it isn’t mine. That’s when my light can reach into that dark place and help bring them home to the light where they belong. Those are the people that shoot past me like a rocket grinning from ear to ear on the tides of self-discovery and I cherish each one that finds that place. I do not gift them because it’s already theirs as it is yours. I may just nudge the light a tad to the right so they can see they’re really okay.

But I can’t carry them. I can’t wake them up. I can’t do that. I can’t pick someone up and force them to embrace their colors. It is ALWAYS the individual choices that color their spirits. It is ALWAYS their responsibility. I learned this and other rules of engagement when watching the masterpieces I encounter.

I can’t tell people what color they will become but I can tell them what color I see. The colors don’t have traits as much as they have emotions attached to them. When I see the colors and I really like them, I have to wait. I can’t immediately bond with them because rarely, but it does happen, they are wearing someone else’s colors. Like maybe they had a bad interaction with someone so it clouds their spirit or they’ve just received great news and are wearing that instead of their normal vestments. It’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing that causes me to ease my steps.

The physical being, the way you wish people to see you comes second. When I see someone that matches their physical self with their spirit self, it’s a feeling of home. It’s a feeling of such personal integrity, I think, “YOU! You’re there!” Sometimes it surprises me so much to find an authentic person that I actually say that out loud. There are many people who come close to matching but, it’s like they choose the wrong pair of socks or the wrong shade of happy. It’s just enough off for me to recognize that they’re missing parts of themselves or aren’t aware they are. It is my experience that it’s typically the latter.

The physical being does matter. I don’t wish you to have the wrong impression. I do see it, but not until I’ve peered through the spirit. When I tell someone that they are beautiful, I see them as I’ve described to you. I wish I could paint each person so they could see their beauty too. As if, if I could create them on canvas, they might appreciate their own divinity that seems apparent to me. But instead I’ll follow the advice of my kind Uncle Les who said, “Mare, whatever you do, keep doing it. The world needs more of it.” So it is written, so it is done.

When I’m Alone

The Clipper Ship Blue Jacket On Choppy SeasAm I Schrodinger’s cat locked in a coffin that I can’t see?

Am I my own imagination come to life or who others want to see?

Am I an earthquake that shakes the foundation of your beliefs?

Am I the whirlwind that’s met with cautious alacrity?

Am I so enigmatic I am hidden even from myself?

Am I a magician’s assistant that performs with infuriating stealth?

Who am I when there’s nobody around to witness me?

Am I just a wanderer piloting my ship on the popped blue collar sea?

Expectations and the Pedestal

I used to have a friend that was constantly three hours late for everything except work. The fact that she worked two or three jobs at a time made some of the tardiness excusable. But after a while, we had to adjust our scheduling as a group to accommodate this. If the event started at 7PM, we’d tell her it started at 5PM and she’d show up fashionably late. It was a running joke for a while, but tardiness bothers me when it’s repeatedly done. To me, it says, “My time is far more important that you are. I’ll get there when I get there and you’ll just have to deal with it.” Now, I know that’s not how the thought process works, but it felt that way.

We all have those people that hang on our periphery that just don’t quite make the inner circle. It’s not that they’re bad people, per se, just that they may have habits or ideals that don’t quite fit with our own. Maybe they’re disrespectful of your time by being perpetually late or they find the bottom of a bottle far more interesting than taking care of their children. Whatever the reason, they are still called a friend, but aren’t close enough in our emotional commitment to be able to stop by any time. Cull the herd. It is unnecessary to hold on to people just because you worked with them 15 years ago. Letting them go doesn’t mean a confrontation, just a silent goodbye and an unanswered phone call. It’s okay to allow that relationship to organically decompose.

But what about family members? Those are far more tricky to deal with because of the blood-kin ideal that family is family. Remember, at least the black sheep is an honest hypocrite. We all know at least one that is of questionable views on the world (I push that boundary so I labeled myself the dark gray sheep), but even if they aren’t living life like everybody else tells them they should, they’re making their own choices.

It is my opinion that loving them does not mean enabling them, criticizing, or judging their every action, but realizing that they might not be ready for the kind of love you have to give. Being supportive doesn’t mean that you have to rush to get them whenever they fall down, it means listening when they talk to you about their own wants and desires.

I’ve recently had to relearn this. It was extraordinarily painful because the person in question was throwing out thousands of dollars to the lowest bidder, giving away a free education, and walking around in a drug induced haze while doing nothing to further his life. I was furious with the choices he was making. No matter what I said or did, he kept making the worst possible choices in my eyes. But my tactics weren’t working and it was driving a massive wedge between us. Communication had broken down to the point of stony silences and terse comments. Something had to give.

I took away all expectations and started from scratch. Chores have to be done on these days because that contributes to the family. Three days a week. Daily stuff included being respectful, not using at my house, and sharing responsibility for our four legged friends. I made that change three weeks ago. Things have become our normal at our house. We joke and laugh. We all seem to be happier. When I removed the expectations about his life and kept them to expectations of family responsibilities, it worked out a lot better overall.

Relationships are complicated enough without, what I call, THE PEDESTAL! When we place expectations on other people to say, behave, or be a certain way, we set ourselves up for major disappointments, resentment, anger, frustration, and confrontations. I have to ask myself this question, “Is this them being a human or is this them being a jerk to me?” It helps me narrow down the field and realize that my perception of them is skewed by my idea of who they are or should be in my mind. With practice, it becomes easier to let them be who they are without making them justify every move or action.

I don’t claim to be an expert, but I have found that culling the herd, communication, taking the pedestal out from under them, and living my own life has made a dramatic difference in my happiness level.