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Writer's pictureAnnelisa MacBean

Inside the Story

I’m starting to get that it’s not so much about whether I need to or even can extricate myself from the developmental-cultural-historical-karmic filters through which I have come to perceive “reality.” Instead, it’s about being able to see clearly all the nuance, subtlety, and beyond body radiance that is ever-present. When I am graced with the capacity for seeing Divine in everything, I am also able to perceive how I have imagined myself, others, and the world. I can perceive the myth in which I am living, through which I have been seeing and interpreting my experience. I can see the story I’m telling myself about what is. Then I have to ask myself . . . "Am I willing to take the risk to imagine otherwise? . . . To withdraw consent from the negativity of internal voices I inherited from a culture that has forgotten its Divine source? Am I willing and able to listen to the poetry and wisdom I feel pouring out of the stars?" While I may not be able to fully step outside this human identity and the matrix of shared beliefs that is its context, I can playfully experiment . . . allowing myself the freedom to explore and discover, letting my imagination get lost in the old stories and then found in the truth of singular moments. I can get messy, fall apart, be vulnerable, fail miserably, fail with heart, forget and remember, dissolve and come back together.


I have to set aside the fantasy that one day I will come to some safe, secure resolution to the oscillating wildness of Love; that I will come to the end of Love's contradictory, untamed, and relentlessly demanding activity. I have to drop the illusion that one day I’ll “master” life, work my way into some invulnerable/untouchable state, tucked away and protected from the experience of the rug being pulled out from underneath me in each unfolding moment. Can I let others matter, let my heart break and mend, be intimately embodied without becoming fused, fully participate in a collective vision, in the dream of possibility for this world without falling into a trance? And if I do fall into trance, am I willing and ready to see that, too, as the Divine in another guise? It’s really like being a character inside my own fable or storybook . . . with all the Divine and archetypal beings by my side, curious as the plot unfolds as to what this crazy human character is going to do next, how she is going to BE next . . . in awe of the human form and the inseparability of matter and spirit.




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