All posts tagged Love

The dumbing down of #Emotion

Published September 21, 2013 by myagleny

Years ago, I came to the uncomfortable realisation that I had become numb. Somewhere along the line I had turned off the tap that had brought to me my feelings, emotions, intuitions and appropriate human reactions.  Somewhere, in amongst the dramas and traumas of a crazy life, I had decided I would be better off not to feel… anything.  I could still stub my toe and complain about it however, and much later I could give birth and be aware of excruciating physical pain ravaging my body, but to most things – good or bad – it would be as if I disappeared, to a place deep inside where nothing could touch me.

Why does a person shut off feeling?  In my case I believe it came as a small child when I was told that life was hard and unpleasant, and consisted of difficulties and penalties and punishment. ‘Real’ life was all about hard work, success or failure.  It was about marks on pieces of paper and regular reports from your betters, highlighting what was wrong and never what was right. Real life was a mountain of must dos and must do nots…  Freedom, peace and hugging trees were just a joke!  Never permitted, never valued, never even talked about except in terms of wackos, weirdos and drop outs…  Peace and Love were for drug addicts and wastrels – bad people who sponged off those who worked hard their whole lives. Good people like us work I was told, and work some more.  I believed the propaganda, all its lies and limitations, and part of me began to close down because I never wanted to feel the intensity of the sadness of it.

I was led to believe the connection I felt with Nature and Trees as a child was not ‘real’.  It was a fantasy that those who believed they were helping me, tried to squash.  They succeeded oh so easily, because a small child always wants to be loved, and if you do as you’re told and think as you’re told, you’re more likely to receive a kindly word.  Go against them and something is ‘wrong’ with you.  Even if you are never deliberately disobedient, only gently going about your business, if you have not bought into their world you must have chosen opposition, and therefore become the enemy in some form. Little children do not want to have enemies. They just want to have love.

As you grow up you become so used to numbness you no longer remember how it felt before.  You wonder in your quiet moments why you have to drink so much alcohol before life holds any joy at all.  You know you will be judged in the morning, told off, condemned and looked upon with disgust, but it’s still worth it just to feel something for a while. One too many and it’s over the top back into numbness again – but hey, that’s familiar territory.

When awareness comes, as it does in the end, all kinds of interesting things begin to happen.  It is as if every unasked question starts screaming for answers, and it hurts.  Every lie becomes blatant and raw. Every attempt at smothering the honesty of Life becomes a crime.  With awareness the Truth rushes in from all directions, and for years it literally took my breath away.  How could I have been so dumb?  How could I have believed such twisted pain and taken it as my own? Why did those who professed to care, persist in trying to poison me? 

Now I am in the middle of the great unfolding.  I allow things to come and go.  I am releasing the blame, and releasing the pain, and am continuing to feel more and more.  Now my love for the Natural World has free expression – I feel safe in the wild places.  I am connecting again.  Feeling means full expression of Self.  It is the only true way to live.  Without our emotions and intuitions we are shadows, half-alive…  It is the uniqueness of the human experience and the ability to express it fully that makes a Life.

I can do that.     


#Loss #Love and Remembering

Published August 24, 2013 by myagleny

When we lose someone, or something that holds great importance for us, it leaves a yawning gap in our lives.  But where exactly is this gap?  Newtonian physics would not be able to find it and actually show us the location of this empty space, and a Doctor would not be able to fill it or fix it with a bandage, although she might suggest the numbing qualities of another mind bender. The gap doesn’t exist in a material sense, but we feel it all the same.  It is like a bottomless pit that floats in and out of our awareness, lost in time somewhere, but the pain of its presence we feel right now.  Sometimes it is almost as if we can see into it – the gap, the pit – and the heartbreak is there is no light within. What can we do?

It seems we have to get bigger.  Much bigger.  We have to move beyond the ‘little me’ and begin to see a timeless, endless divinity that works ceaselessly and effortlessly.  The way out of suffering is to move out, in all directions and in all ways.  If we expand beyond the terrors of our mortality and inevitable losses, we begin to see the magic and motion of life playing out in everything we say and everything we do. Our lives become purposeful – not in worldly ways we have been taught hold the greatest value, like our ability to build empires and corporations – but in the subtle realms of love and compassion for all things.  It is here that our Truth unfolds.  Here is where our reason for living reveals itself.

Why do we have to feel pain?  Because we can. Through the pain in our life experiences, our true nature has the opportunity to show itself.  If we acknowledge our fears – the losses and the sorrows – and take from them the gifts that really are there if we put down our weapons and allow – Life/God/The Universe comes joyfully tumbling into everything, and it is as if our thoughts and words and deeds become charged with a gentle power, so great it creates new worlds in every moment.

When we forget our connection to all life, we feel small, isolated and alone.  We feel like victims – tiny, suffering and helpless.  This is not who we are – not really.  We have the power of choice in every moment, and when we choose to remember we are all things in all ways, our yawning, painful gaps fill in with love and kindness, and we are complete.

We are human, and it is inevitable that we will experience loss in life, but when we feel it, and feel it we will, we can also choose to be healed by remembering our connection to divinity, and invite in the greatest force in all the Universe…

Love.  Image

Cash under the Bed

Published April 30, 2013 by myagleny

My ex-husband used to keep money under the bed.  He would shove bundles of notes under the mattress at the end of each working day, and occasionally even pay some of it into the bank.  He earned a lot of cash.  It was the nature of his business. The Inland Revenue never got the full story of course, it would have cost them a fortune to follow him around day after day as he visited wealthy ladies with money, and time, on their hands.  Every morning he would be up and gone at daybreak – no mobile phones back then, so I would never hear a word from him until he came home in the evening, pockets full of cash and starving hungry. Where had he been?  Who had he seen?  I never knew.  

Was he a gigolo? I think you could say there were perks (for him) that came with the job, but by profession he was a farrier – a blacksmith who nailed iron shoes onto horses.  Perhaps that was the appeal for the ladies with the loot. Lonely Lady Whoever would seldom turn down an hour in the company of something so dark and dangerous.  There was always a kind of earthy sexuality to him.  Like a fox, he was always on the look out and rarely missed a chance. The women adored him.  They would fall at his feet.

It’s very odd being married to someone other women fancy so openly.  In the end it makes you feel almost invisible. One lady, whose red finger nails seemed to know the line of his back just a little too well, even came to babysit.  Now that took some nerve. I didn’t know it at the time, for I was naive and probably downright stupid, but she and he had been at it for years.   Later I felt quite sorry for her, because she, like all the others, fell out of favour in the end. To cap it all he stopped shoeing her horses as well.

Of course someone like this doesn’t actually care for anyone.  How can they?  If you move from one person to another, without forming any personal attachment, you cannot possibly feel love or compassion for your fellow human beings.  If you did, you wouldn’t want to use them in such a callous way, or ever inflict more hurt.  To carry on behaving in this way year after year would surely be impossible for someone who had an ounce of kindness.  Not for him. He never looked back.  He had the unique ability of being able to erase unwanted people and thoughts from his mind.  They simply no longer existed.  He had no apparent guilt.  At age 14 he got a girl pregnant, and when confronted by the distraught father, merely shrugged and said ‘It’s not my problem mate – I’m going to football!’  Years later, when he told this story, he would chuckle.  It was one of his favourites.

So what happened to jack-the-lad?  He with the dark and swarthy looks and muscles to match…  What happened to the man with the eyes of a snake and the habits of a libertine? What happened to the grand seducer who never had to try too hard?

Well… For one thing he got old!  (Pause for smirk…)  

Like for all of us, time ticks away and takes away our youth and our vitality.

Not so much cash under the bed these days I’ll be bound.

Feeling Love

Published April 3, 2013 by myagleny

For years I thought Love was a polite word for having Sex.  People spoke of ‘looking for love’ and ‘making love’ and so I grew up with the belief that fundamentally it was something outside of you, something that you created with a physical act. I would feel slightly embarrassed when I heard the word spoken, would raise my eyebrows if someone said they ‘loved chocolate’, and never said it myself in case someone misunderstood me and thought I wanted Sex.  I grew up very confused, and a little afraid of the ‘L’ word.   It turns out of course, that’s not what Love is at all.

In my parents house, Love wasn’t in common use.  ‘I love you’ was never said.  If it was it must have been so infrequent I have no memory of it.  Love was implied in some form however, my Mother would hug me and try to support me, and my Father would provide us with food, clothing and a roof over our heads.  There was no physical abuse in the home, and there was never so much as a raised voice, as arguments – or even heated discussions – were forbidden. We all lived together, in a kind of pseudo-Amish emotional vacuum, my parents, my brother and I, in the same house, sharing the same meals, watching the same tv, and I can see now how truly dysfunctional we really were.

Love isn’t about having Sex. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t that. Anyone can have sex with anyone else, and it can often mean nothing.  Surely to feel Love, Loving and Loved is more than lying down with someone. Surely it is more than something that can be done in moments…

When I had my first child I felt Love. It was so powerful, I didn’t know what to do with the intensity of emotion that swept over me as I watched her sleeping.  My heart came alive, and my whole being was consumed by this devotion that I had never so much as touched on before.  My life dramatically changed with motherhood, as I was now tapped into a power so strong I knew I would – I could – do anything to keep her safe.  This was the Mother Love of the Universe, the energy that creates worlds, and ensures the survival of us all. It was joyous and expansive, and I was living life to its fullest.

But time passes, and the intensity slows. I don’t know why it should, but it does. Things happen, people happen, and the direct flow from the Love source gets shut off here and there, and before you know it, the feeling you had is just a memory.  Love then becomes a longing – a feeling you once had but now is lost.  Again it is on the outside – out there somewhere, waiting to be found. No longer is it the feeling that floods in every morning on waking. The feeling that calls you into Life. Now it has slipped away again, behind a veil of sameness and mundane daily life, and we wonder if we can ever get it back. 

But Love isn’t outside.  Love is inside.  To be allowed and felt, or to be shut off.  It is a choice. But who would do that?  Who would choose to shut Love off?  Why would anyone do that?

I don’t know why.  I only know that I do it all the time.  It is like an amnesia.  I simply forget that Love is there, I forget to be in the flow of Love. My mind is thinking of problems and solutions and keeps itself fully occupied. The subtlety of Loving needs space in which to be felt, and I am always too busy for Love.  Only when the chance to show it has passed, when those who are dear to me have gone, will I remember.  And then it is with longing once again, for something lost.

Perhaps it takes practice.  Perhaps I should begin with myself – after all I’m always available and I’m always with me!  If I feel loving kindness towards myself, will it not spill out to those around me?  If love is a flow that never stops unless you turn it off, then surely that might be.

I will try.  I will practice.  I will start with gratitude and kindness towards myself. If I can do that, then maybe Love with show its gentle face again.  If it is true that what you put out always comes back to you, then I should see some changes soon enough.  

‘Is love a feeling or a fancy?’   Perhaps it is both.