After my last post, I had a couple of interesting experiences that made me look on the little bird thing from a different perspective. The first took place that very day: an American woman whom I "randomly" met on Facebook wrote to me because she was feeling hopeless. I had to go out for a while to the fencing study, but when I returned, I got back to her and found that she was telling me about her tortuous life's process, beginning with the death of her mother when she was 10 years old. Her father never legally recognized her so she was orphaned and spent her teenage years in foster homes. Then she told me that she'd clinically died three times and brought back to life, twice by medical personnel and once on her own, and in one occasion she severed one of her hands, which had to be reconnected to the arm. On top of that, she said that she's had recurring nightmares that leave her sobbing every night. She further stated (and repeated a few times) that she's had nobody to talk to, nobody who could understand, so I was the first person she's told any of that in 15-20 years, and she was telling me all of that because she felt compelled to do so, thinking that perhaps I could give her answers.
If you meet this story with a bit of skepticism, I understand you, but I didn't need to believe her to be present for her. To me, she was like that little bird trapped in a loop of thread, unable to take flight. I expressed my admiration for the fact that she was still alive and trying to understand despite everything she'd been through, and spoke to her about Dharma, the purpose of her life and why all of those experiences told her about an important place in the world from where she could share with others wisdom that could help them. I told her of my work, the things that I've used to turn my life around, to overcome grief, anger and resentment, etc. I also spoke to her about God, as presented in the major mystical traditions, and how everyone in this world has a reason for living.
She didn't want to hear any of that. She just wanted me to "empathize", namely, to pity her and pat her on the back. Her reaction to my words was to call me a "false guru" spreading my "fake wisdom," along with other things, and then to unfriend me. Instead of replying, I just blocked her. I didn't feel like she really wanted to change her situation, she'd grown cozy in her suffering, real or imagined, and her loneliness was no doubt a consequence of driving all other people away. Misery can be shockingly addictive. I could do nothing for her, just like I could do nothing for that bird and for hundreds of people that I've met over the years. This realization immediately decreased the sense of shame and guilt that I'd been feeling since Monday.
On Friday, I narrated my Mage The Awakening game in a school to a group of kids, one of them about 7 years old, it was fantastic and very different. Then I went to meet my cousin to buy some cannabis (finally) and to have a talk with him, and that's when I had the second experience, quite the opposite from the one I just told you. I let my cousin talk and listened intently as he explained his new understanding of responsibility, of life and death, of respect. I was so happy to hear all of the things he told me, because in his eyes and in his words I found that he's had the necessary revelations and has made the required changes in his demeanor, so he's begun to live a better life. I can't explain how honored I felt when he said that he'd changed after having listened to me, that he considers me as guide in many respects. That's an astonishingly high praise and I felt blessed.
The next day, after I went to an event with the full intention of narrating but ultimately unable to do so, I came back home and before I entered my building, a guy whom I've met several times since I moved here asked me for some money but in fact needed someone to talk to. He'd already given me previews of his situation a few weeks ago, saying that he's had serious issues at home. That day, he opened up even more, talking about what he thinks of as criminal activity in his past and the suffering that he's had to endure since. He told me about the death of his father and stuff he'd lived prior to and during that event, but all of it pretty vague. I find it impossible to discern the thread of his life and I don't really care all that much about his past as he remembers it, I just took it upon myself to be present for him inasmuch as I'm able and to convey to him the same things that I told that other woman: that he can turn his life around, that everything he's been through is a learning opportunity and has made him strong in ways that he probably doesn't know yet. Let's see how that goes.
All in all, I think I'm starting to access another level of my work as both a spiritual servant and a storyteller. My goal is to be able to sit with anyone at any time and to be fully present for them, no matter their background or the nature of their stories. I want to listen to as many people as I can so I can learn new things, to share my experiences with them in the hopes that perhaps they might find something useful too, and gain more freedom in their own processes. Doubts will always arise, but I'm happy to say that they're not the stumbling blocks they used to be for me and, as you can see from the experiences above, they can be cleared rather quickly.
The Universe is always speaking to us, shouldering the burdens that we can't carry ourselves. In order to serve well, I've learned, we have to drop the load. We can't do our work well if we're buckling under the weight of things that we simply can't control.
I'm happy to hear that the sense of shame and guilt has decreased with the realization you had after having listened to that woman.
I find it very admirable, your goal, and I'm sure your capacity to hold energy will only increase with the work you're doing.
I'm always excited when I go through those downtimes because I know they're followed by a new degree of growth! That woman gave me the slight push I needed to work that out, so I thank her.
Thank you, dear! I also strongly believe that!
As someone who has lived many years under the curse of “the activist” I’ve had to practice not letting the suffering of others get to me in order to heal from that pattern. Of course I feel compassion and if there is anything I can do without hindering my ability to help other people or do all the other things I came to do, I’ll do it! But I’ve gotten pretty good at not being weighed down by the suffering of others. Perhaps my childhood made it easy, not enough space to be myself and so I learned to cut off any emotions that are hanging on uncomfortably due to someone else’s suffering. On the flip side it’s probably directly connected to my numbness towards the idea of family and tradition.
I killed a rat two weeks ago. I felt a little sad about it but absolutely zero guilt. Ruthless 🤔 I don’t like being ruthless, but I imagine I would be about the bird as well. Still not pleasant to watch.
Once in a mountain village in Yunnan at night, I met a dying dog on the street. It had been hit by a car and couldn’t walk well and it’s eye had popped out. I wanted to save it but I couldn’t think of anything I could do, there were no animal hospitals out in the mountains and I didnt have money to pay them anyway. I doubt they could have saved it either and so I was left with the question…”should I kill it?” I haven’t become ruthless enough to be able to kill a dog in that situation. And it feels strange to say that I wish I could be ruthless enough to put it out of its misery instead of just leaving it there but never have the misfortune to have to be that ruthless.
I guess my take away from this and your story is that sometimes we shown battles that are not ours, just so we learn to focus better on the things we know we CAN do.
I agree with that takeaway. Gods, stumbling upon a dying dog would be pretty hard for me too. I don't think I could kill it either.