Let me just start this post out with something that some of you have already noticed: comments are open. Feel free to put your two cents in, add a link, share your perspective. And why are comments back open here? Because it's time . . .
My obsession, inquiry, into stories continues. And part of that has been to open back up to folks around me. I've been reading blogs again, and twittering, putting a huge revamp of my blogs into motion, preparing to fold them all into one so that I can better communicate, and be open to communication from others, and increase transparency into the different aspects of my living, as well as increase unification. I'm even responding to emails, and answering the phone more often than not.
For a while, for a few years, I shut down to most stories. I didn't want input, didn't want to hear other folk's stories. I'd woken up to the fact that we're all screaming chimps, and for a while, I had to shut everything and everyone out til I could get a better sense of what the heck was going on.
What I came to understand was that I held some false beliefs around what I have to do, what is necessary. I believed that if someone spoke to me, I had to listen, and that it was rude not to answer the phone, or return emails. I had serious problems with the word No, as in saying no thanks to folks, and moving on, or saying no thanks by simply remaining silent.
I came to realize that there are lots of folks who like to scream, who are either oblivious to the fact that they're screaming or who revel in their noise level, think it's funny or pithy or unique. And I also realized that all I have to do if I don't like the screaming is walk away, or turn away, or simply hit the delete button.
Do you think this sounds simplistic? Really? How often each day do you do things you don't want to? Spend time and energy with people you don't want to be with? Do things out of obligation, fear, because that is what nice, decent, mature people do? I understand why you do it, even though you don't want to, because when I stopped, people got very, very, very piss*d off at me.
I discovered that needy people will cry that you are mean and withholding for not listening to them, doing things for them. Aggressive people will insist you've misunderstood them. Angry people will blame you for their rage, say that you've made them mad. I discovered that opting out was a lot harder than I ever imagined, and came to a deep understanding why this is so.
Human culture (and all cultures, sure) is built on interdependency. Things are built interwoven one into the other, and it's very difficult to separate yourself out. I tried. I tried to leave. But in order to eat, you have to work. In order to work, you have to work for or with other folks, and in order to do this, you have to fit into their acceptable worldview in some way. No one will give you cash for being crazy. Not really.
And again, this may sound simplistic, but I found that the secret to this was simply walking away from the angry, the needy, the aggressive. And as I left, they screamed that they'd make me pay, that they'd refuse to give me things, that they'd make survival, one way or another, difficult for me. But I discovered that I'd rather die alone and broke and hated than to continue to seek or accept assistance from a screaming chimp. And for a long time, it was just me and the kitties here listening to the crickets. And I got used to the quiet. And found a lot of solace and depth and Yes in the silence.
And then in the past few months, an awareness of something magical, amazing, quiet, practical began emerging: I'm making a living, both financially and emotionally, slowly slowly surrounded by more and more folks who take a stand to live the Yes, who laugh at how full of sh*t we all are, and who are less interested in DRAMA and more interested in stories. If you think they are the same things, look again. They are radically different, even as maybe they reflect similarly from within the spectrum of consciousness.
But of course, I could be wrong about all this. Maybe enlightenment for me was just one more step further, some sort of deep rejection of this interdependency. Maybe the solution was to go out to the front lawn, lay down, and not get up. But instead, with this realization of connectivity, I went out and got a job, a regular 8-5 cubicle job, which I'd never had before, and which I loathed, but which has turned out to be profoundly awakening in terms of what is and isn't needed for survival.
I discovered what I'm not done with in this living called Katherine. I still have story to live out, with writing and growing food and tending animals and letting go of the rest of the patterns and sharing what I know and making folks laugh and applauding when I find someone flying and soaring and making magic. I need other folks to survive, and found that I want to pour my energy and time and love and effort into these magical folks and what they're trying to do in their living. And little by little, some of these magical folks turn and see the Yes in this living called Katherine, and pour their energy in, which creates more energy in me, which I in turn pour into more folks of Yes. Magic!
And I'm okay with all of it, the Yes and No and chimps and magic and pain and cash and meds and kitties and the delete button and answering a million billion emails. What Life wants, I want. And I trust that what is in front of me is Yes. Always. Even as I acknowledge that I also have the choice to say no thank you. And opening up comments is part of that. If a screaming chimp shows up, all I have to do is delete. But I don't mind. Because the Tribe of Yes will also show up, and say howdy, and plant a flower, and sit for a spell and have a cup of joe.
Hello, Tribe of Yes. It's good to be alive, isn't it?