Steer clear of judging others. Hold them in a place of loving kindness in spite of your reservations and in spite of your own convictions. Hold yourself accountable just as you hold others accountable. One way may not be right, but the other may not lead to compassion either. Seek balance in alignment with the truth, with the flow of what truly is. For to rush the river destroys everything for everyone. Supreme patience and patient waiting for change to happen naturally, for all the pieces to fall into place, adds stability to any situation, as does love. In the flow of it all, don’t forget to be loving. It’s the energy most important for now, and forever. Be patiently loving.
Patient waiting brings rewards not unlike the bounty of those who forge ahead heedlessly but without the painful consequences. Patient waiting is the key to all things desired, for it is in patient waiting that truths are revealed, unfolding in a graspable manner, slowly revealing themselves so that what has been desired is allowed time to mature. And thus, finally, one is also matured and ready to receive, though perhaps the truth is that the object of one’s desire is no longer necessary or wanted. And that is the real beauty of patient waiting, discovering the truth without a lot of heartache. Patient waiting also teaches one of life’s greatest lessons: how to do patient waiting!
These days I allow myself but one minute a day to read the world news. It’s all I really need to stay informed. It’s not an act of avoidance; it’s highly pragmatic and necessary to ensure my energetic preservation.
I came to this decision after observing the impact on my energy when I tracked the flow of news throughout the day. Repeated exposure led to spikes of reactive emotional activity that sucked the life out of me.
The Shamans of Ancient Mexico identified this as the impact of entities preying upon human energy. The shamans realized that the way to not feed these entities was to stop getting aggravated by them. When the shamans calmed their own energy the entities could no longer rile them. The entity then had nothing to feed off and moved on. That is what the energetic predicament on the world stage feels like right now and I feel it most imperative to guard my energy very carefully, to preserve the Self, and have the needed energy to act when it feels really right to do so.
Trump appears to emulate such an entity. It’s time to stop being aggravated by him, to stop expecting him to be different. It’s not going to happen. Give him nothing to feed off. He can only be empowered by the emotional volatility that he incites. Starve him!
For objective guidance I have sought the counsel of the I Ching ever since the U. S. Presidential election was decided. The first reading I received was hexagram #54 Making Do, which I discussed in a previous blog back in November. Here is that blog: Making Do.
Last week I was compelled to consult the I Ching once again, as I felt the stirrings of a more extraverted response, as collective movements began springing up in response to executive orders. The I Ching gave me the exact same reading that I received in November, hexagram #54, Making Do. Once again it accentuated the first line of the hexagram and, in addition, the final line. I quote Richard Wihelm’s commentary on the first line:
“A man may enjoy the personal friendship of a prince and be taken into his confidence. Outwardly this man must keep tactfully in the background behind the official ministers of state, but, although he is hampered by this status, as if he were lame, he can nevertheless accomplish something through the kindliness of his nature.”
I think an apt example of this type of tactful influence is exemplified by an Elon Musk, a CEO chosen for Trump’s advisory council. Musk holds the value of addressing climate change, yet knows how to make money. Trumps respects him. He is one of only two CEOs on Trump’s CEO advisory panel of nineteen who challenged Trump’s order targeting Muslims.
The additional line at the top that I received in this second reading is abundantly clear: A marriage ritual is to be performed but neither the man nor woman is sincere; no real union is possible. The I Ching makes clear that though the outer forms of a democratic union may be observed, they are superficial. A genuine union is not possible. There is no genuine union with Trump.
This hexagram turns, in the future, into hexagram #61, Inner Truth. When the outer truths are overshadowed by fake news and authoritarianism, it is wise to send one’s attention inward and discover the real truth in one’s own heart and gut.
This morning, seeking further counsel, I once again consulted the I Ching for guidance to pass on. I received hexagram #3, Difficulty at the Beginning. This hexagram is about the chaos of birth. In one respect we are facing the chaos of the birth of a radical new world leadership. Additionally, we are at the beginning of the birth of a world movement seeking to respond to actions that many feel to be extremely dangerous to world survival.
The I Ching highlights the second line of this hexagram: a wagon breaks down, the horses run off; it’s a crisis, but someone immediately appears and offers rescue. The I Ching warns about a quick solution that appears to provide rescue. It points instead to patient waiting, that a cycle of time must first be completed which will prepare the foundation for a natural solution to fall into place. Strong guidance to avoid impulsive, precipitous action, however tempting it may be!
The future of this hexagram is #60, Limitation. Here the guidance is to accept the limits of what can be accomplished at this time and to place limits around the growing anxiety and emotional pressure within the self. A lake without borders can only flood, whereas a contained reservoir offers abundant nourishment when the time is right for sweeping action.
Each one of us must check in with our heart and gut and decide what action is right for us to take. Sometimes patiently waiting is the wisest yet most challenging action. That being said, it is the guidance for now.
Shortly after I finished college and went to live in Sweden, long suppressed memories began to stir. They came in short bursts, most often as dissociative states. I would suddenly retreat from the world, tunneling down into myself, where I’d view the world as if from inside a telescope.
Such moments could last for a few minutes to a few hours. I had no idea why they happened, but there was something incredibly familiar about them, though fuller memories of my childhood sexual abuse were not to surface for decades. I had never heard of recapitulation nor was I seeing a therapist at the time, but there was a deeper part of me that knew that one day both of those things would become central to my existence.
It was also about that time that I had the clear insight that one day I would have to retreat into a cabin of my own, as I thought of it, and do the deeper inner work that I sensed would one day be necessary.
To combat those disturbing moments of dissociation, I began keeping a list of all the things I would take with me into my cabin. I planned to go for a long time, a year or more. I made lists of foods, water, personal supplies, how much of each I’d need. I made lists of art supplies and writing implements, clothing, bedding, batteries, pots and pans, etc. My cabin was heated by a wood stove, so I stacked wood outside the walls, lining it several feet deep, both for lighting fires as well as insulation during the coldest months. I expected that I would be buried under several feet of snow for months on end, it was Sweden after all.
The lists were long. I’d check them over and over again, adding new things, deleting others that seemed unnecessary. I tried to think of every item I would need and every circumstance I would encounter. I wanted to be sure that I had not forgotten one thing that I would need in my isolated cabin. Whether my imaginings were practical or not didn’t matter; it was a deeper part of me that was making the plans.
My cabin planning became an art piece. I worked on it for months, drawing floor plans, exterior views, picking the perfect mountaintop spot with beautiful views, incorporating it into all my other art works for years to come, getting it just right. Putting the final touches on it, I put it away, for I knew it was not going to become an actuality, at least not then. I would have to wait for the right time, because I was certain that someday I would be going into a cabin of my own, that I would be there for a long time. Once there, I knew I would be ready to finally face my demons, all that tortured and plagued me.
Little did I know that, in a sense, my mental planning would one day prove useful, though the entry into my cabin took a far different route from my early imaginings. In the planning stage, I was establishing a real cabin, but in the reality of my recapitulation, many decades later, I entered a metaphorical cabin, as I personally became the cabin. My own body housed me, protected me, nourished and supported me throughout the three years of my inner journey. It contained everything I needed to do my recapitulation. And just as I had imagined, I did finally face all that had stirred back when I was just a young woman starting out in life. Though I had been granted a taste of what was to come, little did I realize just what it would mean or where it would take me.
I am struck now by the patience of my young self. I seemed to know that when things are ready, they will come. It was a valuable lesson, one that I relearned many times as my recapitulation unfolded. Often I would want to push the process, get it over with as quickly as possible. I remember one day saying to Chuck, “Why don’t we just spend a whole day doing the recapitulation and get it over with once and for all.” Ha! Little did I know that it doesn’t work that way.
There was no point in pushing. Pushing, I learned, only created unnecessary tension and anxiety. Far better to wait. The recapitulations, the memories, came on their own. I didn’t actually have to do anything to trigger them. I had to learn to be available, recognize that I was being prompted, and take the journey that was offered, because that’s what I was being taken on, a journey. My job, if I was to truly get through the memories as quickly as possible, was to consciously let them go through me, in whatever form they came, and learn what I needed to learn from them, both what they offered me in childhood and what they came to teach me again as an adult.
The recapitulation process was invaluable. Painful as it was, I would not trade it for anything. It was the journey my spirit was setting up for me so long ago, letting me know that one day I would indeed be going into a cabin of my own. I just had to wait for the right time, the time when I was ready.
The lesson of patient waiting can be applied to other areas of life as well. If we want something and push for it, it might backfire on us. It might not be the right time or be the right thing for us. But if we wait, if it’s right, it will come and we will be ready for it. This I know.