ACMindworks

Tag: love

  • A Love Found

    Sept 15: It would appear that the time in between posts here is increasing… It was never my intention to abandon this blog—life has simply decided to move in a direction that necessitated my time and attention flow differently. There’s a sense in the air that inspired me to return to this place and write something today, though, so here I am.

    Everything has changed quite extensively since I last posted. Hell, everything has been steadily changing since I started this blog. In a lot of ways my choice to start writing in this space marked the start of an intensive transformation process, coinciding with my trip to Costa Rica.  I’ve written quite a bit here about my perspective and subsequent experiences with the Venus archetype as of late—especially through the Kabbalistic and mystic Christian lenses—and now that process has been brought far more directly and tangibly into my physical reality. It’s one thing to speak of such matters from the abstract vantage point of a single man; it’s substantially more realized when one has a lovely feminine counterpart to co-create an embodied counterpoint melody with. Venus has indeed blessed this solar son!

    Our individual life-streams were drawn towards each other’s just before I had left to embark on that personal venture I only briefly touched upon in my last post, managing to maintain the connection through those few months of separation. Since my return to what has been my current earthly center-point of Vancouver Island, our connection has deepened, a relationship blossomed, and a shared life newly undertaken. I type these words now in a cozy little cabin nestled in a peaceful piece of property on one of the smaller Gulf Islands nearby—a place where my beloved partner and I will spend the month looking after a pair of charming cats, and essentially draw up the plans on how we want our lives to go and flow, both as sovereign individuals and as a unified unit.

    The first of those two states of being really is so crucial and fundamental to the functionality of the second. It’s so easy to want to escape into another, especially when love is so powerfully felt in relation to them. Romantic love truly is a powerful drug—and like any other drug, when overly indulged in with thoughtless excess, it can seriously disrupt one’s life. I have never had that very easy tendency so purposefully challenged than what this relationship is proving to provide. Keeping centered within myself has become a deeply important part of my own life process, vital to maintaining a clear connection to my creative essence and the greater divine voice. Fortunately, that is a shared value, and one we both strive to keep steady for both ourselves and each other.

    There is an idea— or an image—I work to keep solid in that regard that iterates on the oh-so-common triad/trinity symbol so deeply embedded within nearly all esoteric wisdom. The foundation is to honor and value the self (love thyself), then from there show the same honor and value to the other (love thy partner), and ultimately through both show that honor and value to the divine (love thy holy source). By loving myself I love my partner; by loving my partner I love the divine; I love the divine by loving myself. All three states and expressions of love are really just three angles of the same love/process.

    Approaching a relationship like this, at the foundational level, creates a very different relationship than any I have been a part of before. There is much more space—for authentic expression of self, honest communication, enjoyment of one another, freedom for what is to be what is, and for life to flow as it wants and needs to. There is a deeper quality of safety and comfort when there isn’t such an excessive emphasis on the other as the primary (or exclusive) source of fulfillment that ultimately leads to more of one’s relational needs being met.

    The ironic errors of the ego really does seem to be infinite. The more we grasp or impose or guilt-trip or demand or expect or force the less we ultimate benefit, yet those approaches to relationships (not only romantic) seem to be the default far more often than not. Our relationships really are a mirror to our own reality; our own true state of being; the actual affect of our influence. The ego resists, rejects and denies its part in the various disruptions and dysfunctions that emerge in our relationships, preferring the victim costume and playing out the story where other is the sole cause—futile attempts at deferring responsibility in energetic effect.

    I don’t want to speak too much of my personal experiences regarding the cultivation of this current relationship, as it’s really a story that need be only for my partner and I—and touching in on what I wrote about last time, I believe it’s better to keep the right ratio of distance between one’s personal life and the online sphere. I will say it’s provided a tremendous challenge to my emotional resilience, my mental clarity, my devotion to love as an essence, my willingness to allow things to be as they need to be, my patience, my faith, my trust, and ultimately my dedication to my own growth and integrity. My willingness to step up to those challenges has lead to an ever-expanding space for shared love, profound comfort, powerful transformation, a greater depth of physical awareness and embrace, an abundance of fun and laughter, a continuous unfolding of beautiful moments, an increased sense of spirit, a deeper attunement to life, and an incredibly satisfying, ongoing adventure! The level of love I feel for this woman is remarkable, beyond what my mind could have anticipated was possible, and it streams out into the world at large.

    As a final little note here before I sign off (she’s almost got dinner ready—another perk of partnership!), the same day we had our first official date, I picked up a book exploring the full nuances of Mary Magdalene through the lens of mystic Christian lovemaking (or the fifth way), taking from both the canonical gospels as well as the Gnostic writings. The author clearly favored the narrative equation of Jesus and Mary as divine lovers (something I obviously agree with), seeing them as an example of sacred sex in service of spirit. Considering what I had written about here before, based largely on my own intuitive understanding of that idea, and what the woman I had been on that date with has proven to mean to me, it acted as another wonderful experience of synchronicity. I actually teared up when I first opened the book, even before I read a single word from it.

    It’s amazing how life works. There really is magic everywhere if one chooses to open up to it. I hope everyone reading this finds magic somewhere in your life today!             

  • Short Story: A Walk in the Woods

    Upon awakening one morning, the sudden inspiration to go for a walk lit up the mind. Following the whim of this impulse, the self left the cozy confines of its heavenly home. Carrying a bag stuffed with supplies, the feet guided the self down the path, out into the wide unknown. A forest was soon found, and the self was struck with a strong need to enter it. At the outskirts was a path, well worn and offering a wide opening into the dense, green space. An odd sensation surged through the self as it passed the threshold from outer to inner, but the mind paid it little heed beyond a fleeting curiosity.

     The fresh, warm light of the rising sun gave way to the dark chill awaiting inside. A shiver descended down the self’s back, quickly followed by an ascent of invigorating enthusiasm, elicited by the rich affect of dynamic lifeforce abound within the forest’s bonds. Giddiness and glee tumbled out from the self, quickening the step and adding a touch of swagger to the gait.

     Looking about the trees, the self saw their youthful strength, felt their vivid vitality. Loud laughter lashed out from the mouth, the self taken by the joy the trees seemed so alive with. Entering even deeper into this forested domain, a luscious tapestry of flowers began to carpet the ground all around the path, filling the nostrils and intoxicating the senses with their sweet fragrance. Oh, how glad was the self in that moment at having followed its whim towards this fabulous forest. How so deliciously alive it was, and how potently alive it caused the self to feel.

     The enthusiasm for the experience increased within the self, somewhat softening the hardness of the mind, stimulating the senses of the form, and evoking a feeling to flow freely and uninhibited with it all. The memory proved to be rather hazy regarding the exact events that then followed, save to say that the sense of it felt very good.

     Ultimately, what brought the self back down from this exalted state was when the eyes began to see the odd tree branch littering the path, broken from their mother trunk in a way that gave an impression of violence. Then the self noticed the flowers living so lovely along the path’s edge were damaged and disrupted by careless footsteps. Worse yet, whomever the source of this woeful indignity was had taken to plucking the flowers and thoughtlessly tossing them aside once they tired of their beauty and fragrance.

     This influence of ignorant chaos only increased the further the feet walked forward, increasing the fires of anger rising within the self’s core. This unknown other had the gall to disrespectfully leave their waste strewn about the path. Plastic wrappers, metal scraps, empty cartons, scraps of paper and crumpled bottles were haphazardly left all over, and their own foul defecations deposited without regard.

     Anger boiled into rage in response to this blatant impudence. Who could dare to do such a thing? What awful manner of other proceeded the self upon this path? What ill regard informed their malintent? The feet quickened their pace, the self righteously motivated to apprehend this horrible other and reveal to them their blatant sins with all the harsh fury that could be mustered. As the self progressed down the path, the irreverent sight became more upsetting, and so too did the severe judgement burning in the belly increase along with it. This shameful other ahead had much to answer for, deserving no mercy for their heinous crime.

     And then the self noticed something rather odd. Laid upon the path where the feet tread was a broken branch that looked suspiciously familiar, both in shape and placement. So too were the footprints stomped throughout the poor flowers arranged in a previously seen way, and the garbage ahead appeared to be the exact same as what had initially infuriated the self.

     With a sinking feeling of dawning realization, the eyes inspected the footprints within the flowers from a closer vantage, and upon comparing them to the soles of the feet, horror struck with the revelation that they were a perfect match. It was not some other awful self who had so thoughtlessly disrupted and disrespected the peaceful beauty found within the forest. It was this self.

     Of course, denial flared up, the foolish ego attempting to absolve itself. “Surely I am simply misreading the signs,” the ego thought. “I could never cause such harm. I am a good person. It is only ever the other that enacts such sins.”

     But such refutations were obviously in vain. There could be no mistaking who the true culprit was. While overtaken with the state of enthusiastic rapture, the self had wound up on a path that circles upon itself, thus allowing for the influence and effect of its ignorance and indulgence to be revealed. The self immediately felt darkened with shame, contracting into guilt, and suffered the blowback of an ill-earned self-esteem now so suddenly ripped away. Overcome with enormous self-pity disguised as self-loathing, the self fell to the ground and wept, intending to remain there until death took its due.

     So lost to the domineering drama of inner angst was the self that it hardly heard the soft word whispering to it from afar. An ear managed to lift out from that rather embarrassing stupor to hear the message being imparted.

     “At least clean up the mess you left,” it seemed to say. “And if you really need to feel sorry for yourself afterwards, by all means do so.”

     The self had a few moments of debate with the mind whether or not to actually heed the message, but ultimately there was no worthy argument against it. The self managed to get back on the feet, despite the emotional weight bearing down. The self then proceeded to collect up all the broken branches and neatly pile them next to a pair of thick, older trees; cleaned up the flowerbeds as best as could be achieved, replanting the flowers that yet held a chance for life and placing the rest next to the pile of branches; collected up all of the garbage into a plastic bag that had been discarded on a bush, storing it in the bag hanging on the shoulder; and finished by digging a hole to bury the most shameful of what had been left.

     The self did indeed feel better after having taken responsibility for the mess, but guilt and shame still hung heavy in the heart and mind. The self no longer felt worthy to remain in that special forest.

     But again the voice spoke. “Well done cleaning up after yourself. Of course, you may leave if you so wish, but why not instead come a little deeper into the forest. There is a trail, hidden to the eyes of those who do not wish to see, that you would do well to walk.”

     The self hesitated to acquiesce, but a certain curious sense spurred the action to do as suggested. The trail was indeed found, not so obvious or well tread as the path it branched off from, but unmistakable now that the eyes knew to look for it. Walking this trail required more care, as it was largely grown over, and the self was very mindful not to impart any more harm to the copious plant life growing all about. It proved to be a long trail, and one made all the darker due to the density of foliage. An odd apprehension grew within the belly as the self ventured ever closer to the the trail’s end. What was found there took the breath away.

     A wide, open meadow, alight with the sun’s radiant warmth, had laid hidden in what the self intuitively knew to be the heart of the forest. An astounding variety of flowers grew everywhere, their colors vivid, their geometry inspired, and their fragrance sublime. Running through the center of the meadow was a stream, continuously singing a sweet, burbling song. Next to the stream was a figure, robed in white, their back towards where the self stood. As the figure turned to meet the eyes with their own, the self was forced to look away, the splendor in their gaze beyond what the self could bear.

     “Welcome, child,” the figure said, their voice all comfort and melody. Yet still the self could not match their stare.

    The mind was immediately overwhelmed with the thought that it was not for the self to be there, and the heart hurt in reply. The thought continued, claiming the self should leave, that they were not to stay. Considering all the harm the self had already done to the forest, there was a fear for what more might be imparted.

     The self was about to turn and leave when a gentle hand was felt upon the chin. That warm hand lifted the face, bringing the eyes to meet a golden pair emanating such a depth of love, pouring it out abundantly through their gaze. Immediately tears arose. It could not be said whether the figure was male or female, only that they were beautiful beyond belief, their features almost childlike yet their essence ageless.

    The tears soon began to flow freely, flavored with such sorrow. As the figure beamed a wondrous smile at the self, the tears turned to joy. With a soothing tone and a healing lightness, the figure uttered the most powerfully affecting phrase.

    “Welcome home.”

  • Heartfelt Reflection

    Jan 31: (Editor Aodhan here: I feel the need to add some thoughts to what was initial written. As will be noted, I wrote what will follow this introduction over two weeks ago, yet haven’t been compelled to post it. Not only that, but I haven’t felt any pull towards posting to the blog in general lately. Reflecting upon that fact, as the sense to finally put this up is activated within me, I am able to recognize with a clearer awareness that there are aspects and facets of this life experience that cannot be shared so openly or easily; that they are not meant to be shared.

    There are parts of our own inner alchemy that fundamentally require a kind of internal hermetic solitude; thoughts, feelings, emotions and experiences that can only be truly processed and integrated in the safe sanctity of our own inner hearth. Much of what my attention and intention have drawn me towards lately are rooted in such processes. For now, the best I can say about it is that the narrative progression, or archetypal equation, I’ve been running through my system, ie the dynamics correspondent with Venus (Mary), the Sun (Christ), and Saturn (authority/hedonist split), have lead me towards a greater emphasis of importance upon the state and operations of the heart. Love really is the key, and the heart is the sphere that is the most in tune with that particular note.

    There is another archetypal image that emerges when a deeper consideration and exploration of that sphere is undertaken, and that is of a largely hidden figure most easily, on a collective level, identified as Vesta. There is good reason for her to remain hidden, and it is only through personal meditation that it is revealed as to why this must be. No more needs to be said on the matter, nor can be in any useful means.

    I’ll finish this drawn-out intro by saying I feel blessed with my current circumstance, satisfied with the way things are moving in my world, and I’m largely happy and whole. What’s to follow here is an expression that emerged from this process of heart work I’ve been engaged in, and while it almost feels a little too vulnerable to share, my past self obviously felt compelled to do so, and thus my now self wishes to honor that. Perhaps this is all part of my own heart healing. Perhaps that is at the core of this entire blog. Perhaps that is the core need of the collective healing. It certainly seems like it in this moment I type out these words. Anyways, enough of this preamble ramble. I’ll let my past self take over.)    

    There’s something of a pattern that has begun to emerge in the way I’ve been approaching this blog; a pattern that reveals an aspect of how I tend to operate. My initial intention with this online space was to let it be a place where I could share in my own, personal thoughts and feelings; a means to externalize my personal experience through the written word. While that has indeed been the case, I’ve noticed myself leaning further and further into abstract formulation and contextual calculation with these writings rather than an emphasis on sharing of myself. I tend to do this in general, focus my attention on the larger picture and ultimately lose track of myself. I suppose this post is going to be an attempt at bringing the focus back to my humanity.

    It would seem I’m just far more comfortable with the abstract rather than the tangible; the ineffable rather than the ephemeral. I’ve gone through long periods where the human world, with all it’s impermanent presumptions and self-serious structures, felt so incredibly irrelevant to me. Like grasping at vaporous mirages for meaning and purpose. But despite my preference (and perhaps over-fixation) on uncovering the metaphysical undercurrents, a need for the physical, the material, the tangible, and the human remains.

    Much of what I have been writing in this blog is rooted in my efforts to restore that part of my nature, to settle my awareness back into the fleeting form of human experience. To find a means by which to love that experience despite its imperfections and dysfunctions. I cannot deny that a degree of struggle, and perhaps hesitancy, yet persists in achieving that state of being.

    When looking out from my internal universe onto the external world, it’s very easy to see much that obscures inspiration, chokes out faith, or paints in hues of ugliness and corruption. It takes conscious, continuous effort to hold love in this realm. To keep it burning in the heart even when the icy winds of apathy and selfishness work to snuff it out. And what more important place is there to ground that love than one’s own material aspect? Therefore, my capacity to love humanity is tethered to the degree of love shown towards my own humanness.

    It’s funny, many people I know seem to feel a kind of heavy gravity in regards to the world, their attention and awareness  being pulled down and deeper into it, losing faith or hope or belief in a higher influence. I seem to work in reverse, a gravity pulling me away from the world and into an abstract, intangible awareness of higher beauty and order. The temptation to forego my humanity and assimilate myself even greater to that higher state is strong indeed. However, as I said, there yet remains something that keeps me anchored to the human; keeps me curious to engage; motivated to love.

    That notion seems to be what is leading me to my experience of the Christ essence, and the idea of embracing life as an act of divine love, rather than disregarding it due to its ridiculous nature. Perhaps that touches in on why I can find it challenging to speak more readily about my subjective experiences here, despite that being the intended purpose of this blog: I don’t entirely understand what it is I am experiencing myself, through whatever it is I seem to be attempting to enact in this world. That much of my personal thoughts and feelings are rooted in what could be an unspeakable emotional experience of reconciling the willful ignorance of human arrogance and the subtle, quiet glory of a force far beyond left brain comprehension.

    Even as I make the effort to write this rather odd and disjointed mental/emotional experience out, I’m not sure any real, relatable sense is emerging from it. But I suppose the attempt to share and connect, even these hard to define and express things, is itself an act of love, known through the sincere effort. I will keep trying. I will keep making that effort to bring my own, human experience to light here, regardless if the end results always work.

    Chances are I will always and inevitably start leaning towards contextualizing abstractions, but I’ll make more of an effort in returning the attention back to my personal experiences and sharing them here. I think that might be a good way to maintain a love for my lower self, and hopefully cultivate a greater love for all of life as a result.

  • A Challenge Along the Path

    Nov 25: I decided to extend my time away from the workaway thing for now. I need some time to reorient somewhat and figure out how I want to move forward. I found myself a nice, cozy airbnb in San Jose that’s proving to be a perfect space for this process. This particular post is essentially part of that process.

    The thing is I’m starting to really question why I’m continuing with this trip. I’ve been at it for over a month now and I can’t say it’s really been sparking much inspiration within me. Costa Rica is a beautiful country, no question, filled with lovely people and interesting things to experience, but there seems to be something in me that’s either getting in the way of truly being able to embrace it or maybe just wants to go in a completely different direction.

    An undeniable factor at play in this adventurous instance compared to any other time I’ve done this sort of thing is how much more introverted I’ve obviously become in the last handful of years. Even though I still find the external world fascinating, my internal universe has absolutely become far more compelling. I think three major factors have contributed to this reorientation of my attention, all of them taking place with a degree of simultaneous sequence. The first is a strong element of disillusionment regarding relationships due to my previous experiences (undoubtedly a kind of trauma response), the second is the effects of the COVID-19 event, and the third is a major increase in my study of esoteric philosophy and the subsequent spiritual practices that were inspired. Effectively, it seems that these experiences have sort of synthesized together to cause me to become far more guarded against people and what I perceive as their impulse towards egoistic imposition, and to more vividly view material existence as illusionary.

    Perhaps another way to phrase it is that I have steadily been losing faith in the physical, human world and increasing belief in the spiritual and abstract. While the increase in the one side of that equation has genuinely brought me a level of peace, comfort and confidence I’ve never been able to achieve before, the decrease on the other side has left a growing lack. I’m recognizing that lack is of human connection. Communication, touch, energetic exchange, ego (or personal) encouragement and feelings of being embraced all fall under that umbrella, and the lack of it is wearing on a part of me. At times, when I feel the strength of spirit, I can view that lack as something to be endured in order to maintain a quality of being that can often feel unappreciated or otherwise taken advantage of and fed upon. But when the human animal part of me flares up, screaming its need, I tend to feel somewhat down and uninspired.

    I began to recognize this imbalance over a year ago, seeing how I was overemphasizing the spiritual and abstract at the expense of my own humanity, and have since being attempting to cultivate a greater quality of cohesion between those contrasting and seemingly contradictory parts of my being. I certainly feel I’ve made some headway on that front, but I still hesitate with the human side. It’s very difficult to look at the world and not see it devolving into excessive ego, superficiality, ideological insanity, materialistic greed, cult-like communities and straight up apathetic, nihilistic escapism. We seem to be a sick species, and as an effort to minimize my own mind being infected by it, I tend towards staying silent and contained.

    But that approach feels selfish. Like I’m withholding the love within me that should be shared. That wants to be shared. My choice to come to Costa Rica was rooted in an effort to heal the wounds of my heart, bring down the walls protecting my authentic inner nature and cultivate an increased capacity to communicate myself, my views and my experiences without expectation. Hell, this entire blog project is another expression of that intention. I can say with total confidence that I’m still entirely motivated towards those things and absolutely will not give up on them until the moment I pass from this world.

    But, man, am I ever struggling to actualize it here thus far. Not being able to communicate with people has been corroding my confidence in the endeavor and my strong aversion to communal experience (again, a known trauma response) is weighing the whole thing down even more. I feel such a powerful compulsion to love the world and the life within it, but also an equally strong resistance towards it and the corruption so casually, so carelessly indulged. I know much of the interpretation held within in that latter response is rooted in wounds I’ve accumulated, distorting whatever truth is present in such observations, but I’m not sure I can succeed at healing them if I don’t have people I can truly feel safe with, listened to and embraced for who I am, including these more challenging emotional parts of me. (Editor Aodhan here: I do in fact have a number of people in my life that care for me in this way. I love and appreciate each of you enormously! The lack was really just being felt in that particular moment due to being alone in a foreign country. Just wanted to clarify that.) I often feel like I’m expected by everyone around me to maintain the positive, to endlessly supply the good, to reassure and uplift and express words of inspiration while they get to unload their own painful feelings, darker thoughts and challenging emotions.

    I guess I’m getting tired of the imbalance. Tired of nailing my needs to a cross of self-sacrifice. In truth, I prefer orienting towards the positive, embodying good as best as I can. I love loving life, even if much of that process has to be done in private for me to uphold a certain personal quality. But, man… would I ever like to be able to bring it out more in a way that feels genuinely sustaining and measured in its effect.

    I dunno… I don’t really want to literarily rant about it any more. I suppose I just needed to get that out of my system through words. For those that speak the astrological language, my moon is in Gemini (as is my Chiron for that matter), so I tend to process emotions through either talking or writing. I’m committed to the intention behind this blog, in finding ways to get my inner experiences out through expression, so here it is. As always I appreciate anyone who actually reads this. With this last month of travelling being one of the hardest periods in recent memory regarding communication blocks, I doubly appreciate anyone taking in my mental ramblings with their kindly receptive eyes. Nothing but love to all of you.

    (Editor Aodhan here again: While the personal truth contained within this post remains, the lens of emotion has dissipated quite a bit since the writing. I might not exactly feel the way I did while scribbling it out, but I still wanted to honor what was being experienced and expressed by that past version of me by giving it its place in this blog-space. I am still undertaking my journey through Costa Rica, and glad for it. I’ll touch in on that more so in an upcoming post, but I will say this experience is absolutely proving to be positive and beneficial to my personal development.)