Orange. I set off for this adventure feeling very balanced. Emotionally, mentally and physically. I arrived strong, flexible and ready to receive. Strange feelings of change had accompanied the previous weeks, and a kind of slight, temporary blindness. Seeing but not understanding what I saw. It made me feel a little nervous. The last time this happened, it ended in great pain. I observed my feelings and set off humming, and, most important, being unafraid. Stopping for a moment in the city that is my home.
Gift. I looked for a Jesus for him in New York. I didn’t find a thing. Not a sculpture, nor a drawing nor anything with the presence of the other cheek. I let go of looking and followed my nose. I bought him a book on the art of love. I am not sure he loved.
Mirror. First meal on my favorite platform. I am sharing with him. I’m not rejecting anything, but just before I make a decision, I’d like just once to receive a reflection of pure love. I’ve had a reflection of love from the head. I understood it. I’ve had a reflection of great passion. I felt it with pain. I’d like, just once, to feel the way I love without conditions and with the kindness of the heart.
Moment. She is trying to manage a huge suitcase up to the second floor. “Let me help you,” I say, and reach out my hand to grasp the bottom end of the suitcase. Peter Pan appears at the top of the stairs, puts out his hand and lifts the suitcase easily upstairs. I am moved by the simplicity of the generosity. It warms the heart. Came, acted and left.
Twist. The days go by. Busy schedule, little sleep and still, a sense of special uplifting here. During my yoga lesson, my shoulders refuse to enable my hand to grasp my foot, and my teacher leans down and tells me to straighten my bottom leg. I look at him and say, “But I don’t want to.” He reaches his hand out towards my leg, straightens it and says quietly, “Who’s asking you?” I’m a little stunned. A stupid smile spreads across my face and I go into that stage of observation. It’s a message, I understand. The choice has been made. I’m on my path.
Chance. He looks at me with infinite tenderness. Love is easy for him, there’s no effort involved. Give us a chance before you decide. A little voice inside complains about the timing. I’ve already given up. I explain to him gently that I am in another place…moving on my path. That if we had met years before, it might have been different. That it would be a shame to ruin a good friendship with insults, that the gaps don’t help. One chance, he says, and promises.
The Self. Recipe for searching. The right thing to begin with is discrimination, “I am, I am not”. Thus, on the negative path, you learn what is. The ability to discriminate teaches us that we are the one observing (not the body, not the emotions, not the thoughts). After we have reached this understanding and during the next stage, we remain the observing and distinguishing witness. Observation leads us to the third stage, in which we succeed in seeing that all of us are made up of a shape + a name + a common element. Meaning, we are all different phenomena, both in name and shape, of the same energy or power (God, nature…). Therefore, when he looked deep into my eyes and said: “You and I are not the same at all. You and I are two very different appearances of the one., do you see?” I nodded. In my mind, I understood.
Done. I am ready to go home. I miss my champs who survived five and a half weeks alone at home. Final hugs and best wishes. He made sure I noticed that he was frowning. I wasn’t really sure why, and although I could have done otherwise, I chose love once again. I wanted to tell him that I can easily roar like a mountain lion, but I have chosen to be Mother sheep. I am not afraid. On the contrary. And I don’t need to pretend. For me, love is the real orange.
ניתי
תל אביב 11.5.18
