The desire to understand, a common human trait, is perhaps not conducive to our happiness


Being “rational” is lauded as a good thing.  It is also a trait more closely associated with men.  At least that is what we are told in society.  “Calm down dear,” is just that energy.

My favourite therapist speaks of female rage.  And what man has not been overwhelmed in argument by a woman he loves.  Like some broad tsunami wiping away all of his existence in the face of its fury.  

In my line of vanilla work, one of my colleagues was fond of saying, “Culture eats strategy.”  The meaning of this statement within the context it was given, which is what I do for a living (taking distressed companies and getting them back on their feet), is that if you fail to drive change in sympathy with the culture of an organisation, then no matter how good your ideas are, it will fail.  In other words, we can be as rational as we like, but if you don’t win someone’s heart, you won’t get anywhere.

It may be that “mind over matter” is a dictum of the rational male mind, but the truth is that the heart decides.  The heart rules the mind.  The heart rules everything.  Love is our purpose; love is the meaning of life.

This is not an essay on the patriarchy or women’s rights, but rather a paean to those things that could help anyone find a more harmonious and soulful way of living.  As much as any of my brothers and sisters, this wretched soul has pursued mammon and a life of superficial existence.  Several forces in my life, well documented on this blog, are conspiring together, like fibres coming together to make rope, to tell a single story, to weave themselves from all their different starting points, into one central idea.  Follow the heart.

Follow the Heart

How often do we read about fathers who lament lost time with their children?  How they were never home.  How they missed them growing up.  How life all of a sudden seemed over.  What about the men who come to the end of their careers, can look back in pride at their achievements as they leave the pitch?  Perhaps they are given a great big send off, a party where their colleagues and friends celebrate them.  What happens the next day?  When they wake up without purpose and what little time they have left stretches before them?  Perhaps they have the grandkids.  But how many of them, of us, have ourselves?

We spent a big chunk of our lives asleep.  We spend an equal amount at work, trying to make sure that the 20% or so we have left is fulfilling, enjoyable.  Social pressure, the structure of society, social media, images of beauty, all conspire to drive us towards envy, keeping up with the Jones’s, consumption.  It is a treadmill and a never-ending source of dissatisfaction for almost all of us.

I was in the bathroom of one of my children today cleaning up.  Some habits never die.  I was struck by the presence of some toys I made for my children when they were very small.  I made little wooden sail boats, painted white, each with a different coloured stripe, each named and stencilled on the back, each with a different cockpit and rigging.  They were popular toys in our swimming pool, and later at a country club we used to spend time at, bobbing up and down as they made their own way from one side of the pool to the other.  These toys have lasted until now, until the cusp of adulthood.  And as my children go through a season purge of unwanted clothes, objects, toys, these continually stay the course, remaining cherished and relevant items.

Into the charity box go $500 Lego, countless electronic toys, computers, plastic toys of all kinds that have broken or just don’t work properly anymore or have simply failed to retain their interest value.  Insofar as an object carries energy, what my children cherish is that those boats I made for them carry me.  And when I or they pick up such an object, we can feel it.  Of course, there will be a time when someone who is not connected to their history will regard them and feel nothing, so they may end up as firewood or compost, or at least forgotten.  No matter, for now, for those who are relevant, putting your heart into the things you create, into gifts you give, into the people who we encounter, well, nothing else matters.

Divorce is pushing me to the brink of financial devastation.  I don’t really care.  Being transgender may or may not do the same.  I also don’t care.  What I do care about is living an authentic life.  My life.  Not what people around me expect my life to be like.  I am almost free, and soon, within this year of 2023, I will be completely free.

I’ve never paid much attention to astrology, but boy, have I had some powerful readings lately.  They confirm all of these sentiments and more.  My divorce lawyer, a woman with whom I joke that she is my Princess in shining armour, is a tremendous source of encouragement in my life.  Living life as we really are, is worth fighting for.  My children have now understood that I can’t go to work as a man, can’t fake it any longer.  There is no room for that.

Experiencing Magic

The mix of people that are in my daily life is changing.  I am meeting so many new people, some of them wonderful, absolute keepers, others mysteriously there and not there, leaving me to wonder why they are in my life.  Time will tell.  When someone hits the spot, we can be tempted to wonder, ‘how did they know, how did they say such a perfect thing?’  There can be a million questions.  Why does someone love me?  Why does so and so see right through me and not run away?  Why does a woman call me a doormat in an affectionate way as part of flirting with me, before she even knows that I’m a slave?  Especially since I am a ball of energy, always doing things, on the move, creating, being, living.

My favourite therapist is my Goddess of the Heart.  She is pure feminine energy.  I saw her interacting with her husband, and I could see her feminine rage boiling to the surface…and she thankfully sent him scurrying before it boiled to the surface.  She exudes femininity from every pore.  She is beautiful, breastfeeding, and powerfully motherly.  The energy which she channels is mommy energy.  She carries it in her, and it passes through her like a gale force, and when she opens the channel, if I am open and ready, I am totally and utterly in billowing clouds of mothering energy.  We go on a hypnotic energy where she teaches me to mother myself, to grow this energy inside me, to grow it for the little boy who was innocent and who just wanted to be loved.  Okay, he also wanted to be a she, or to just be different, and to still be loved.  She was and is instrumental in my Ayahuasca journey.  We have also settled in beautifully to her Dominance and my submission, as it takes the form of my energetic education.

The most important thing she teaches me is to silence the rational mind.

There is another woman in my life, a guru, an energy transmitter, who is connecting me to the Divine Feminine.  She channels this energy into me, mother and baby, Madonna and child, holy female, sacred feminine, sexually, spiritually, emotionally.  She has guided me through sobs which have wracked my body, contortions which have pushed me to my physical limits, and also moments of ecstasy and enlightenment.  I will write about these experiences one day soon as we go deeper.  She is the Snow Queen.

After one particularly powerful session, I said, “I don’t know what just happened.”

“You don’t need to,” she said.  And she is right.  And those words are coming to rule my life and have produced a most beautiful set of consequences.

When we just are, without questioning, things begin to flow.  And when they flow, everything works out.  My dearest life companion and friend believes that the universe takes care of the sources of good, that karma is very real.  She shares my pity for the anger of my wife but does not understand the hate any more than I do.  It isn’t my job to figure it out.  I know it’s there, but it is hers, and has no place in my life.  Soon enough we will be disentangled.  In the meantime, as she throws more rocks at me, the better things seem to be energetically in the rest of my life.

Follow the heart and everything will work out in the end.  At the very least, it becomes possible to live without regret, to live for experience, to live with joy, to take solace from the moment.  I have beautiful people all around me.  By nourishing and feeding them and asking for nothing in return, the gifts seem to grow stronger and stronger.

I have spoken of etheric threads.  They become cords.  They become the ties which bind.  They become woven together into a carpet…a magical carpet of life.  As a child I had so many dreams of flying.  Sometimes just my body, but other times on a magic carpet.  It is the heart that weaves this carpet, and these magical threads are weaving it for me as we speak…and it is big enough for me…soon it will be big enough for two…and then more…and more…and one day it will carry an army…born from intentional living.

Bless you all and thank you for reading.

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