I’m quite angry with the world right now. I feel as if I have so little control of how things turn out, however, I suspect that this is the truth of life, somehow forgotten. At least I can now recognize the delusion in what, over the years, I have been taught. That is the teaching of our children that “they” have the power to become something that is more important than what “they” are, as they are, and that “they” as individuals can achieve and change their sense of worth and how others perceive them. And that will bring them power, wealth and a sense of importance and possibly invulnerability to life’s less pleasant afflictions.
People that I love are becoming sick and any effort to fix or distract from that inevitable reality seems to be so superficial and unreal. I’m so aware of the dysfunctional aspects of attachment to surreal ideas and that includes the nonsense of pursuing an individual sense of power that promotes Both disconnection and entanglement in relationships and that takes me so much away from presence and the love I find in that.
I now realize that this illusive power and control that we strive for is rather unimportant and in fact it is often pretend and show that keeps us from something more authentic of ourselves. It is only in presence that I can see what is real of myself and life and death. It is the only place that I can find authentic ground from where I can respond with heart to others, watching the anger and suffering and hoping to be conscious of my habitual reaction that only serves to complicate and confuse things.