Two days ago was the shortest day of the year, the Winter Solstice. It was also the 21st of the 12th month of the year 2010, all 1+2 = 3 + 3 + 3 = 9. So it was supposed to be magical and I received three invitations to meditate and send love, peace and light to the world. Gregg Braden –and who knows how he arrived at this number but as he is a scientist we are supposed to believe him- said that 8,000 people doing this at the same time would be enough to determine the future of the planet. Let’s hope we were 8,000+, let’s hope Gregg is right, let’s hope… Well, no, let’s not. Hope is the last trickery of the Ego. When everything else fails, the Ego tells us to “hope”. Hope is always about the future, and it is always about the future being better than the present. It is born of a negative feeling: things are not good enough as they are. Is that true? Or it is my absolute arrogance that I, this tiny, helpless, finite being who lasts but a nano second in relation to the Universe, believe I have the capacity to see that things are not right as they are and to think that I should correct them. Incredible. God must be laughing.
Immediately as I write this, my mind begins to protest. I can hear it saying that “people will think…”, in other words, I am already thinking: that I preach doing nothing. Everything is perfect, the global warming is perfect, the fact that millions are starving around the world is perfect, the beating and killing of women is perfect, the exploitation by mega companies is perfect. Come off it, B, who do you think you are fooling? Not only should we “hope” for a better future, we should be doing something about it.
So I too sat quietly during the magical three minutes for which the instructions called, and sent gratitude and love out from my heart. Then I went back to my life, went back to living the shortest day of the year to the best of my ability. I realize that I do not hope the world gets better, anymore than I wish my city or town would do things better. I can barely manage my own house –which is now ¼ the size of the one I had before- and I should be so presumptuous as to think I would know how to better manage a town, a city or the Universe. There is no way I could even begin to imagine what would be the best for the Universe. If we live in a dual Universe and 8000 people are sending out love, how many are doing the opposite in order to maintain the balance? Are we being part of that infinite humanity that paves the way to Hell with good intentions? Or are we elevating ourselves into new spiritual elite that knows better? The truth is that the size of my ignorance is so vast as to leave me humbled. I have no idea. I can only trust. Trust that everything that is happening today is perfect for whatever must come next. Trust that humanity will or will not continue and that this planet will or will not survive and whatever, WHATEVER, the results be, that too will be perfect. And the reason I can trust is precisely because I can pause, take a breath and feel the love that is the meltdown of my Ego, that opens my heart, opens my chest and shows me beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is nothing, absolutely nothing but that Love.
Writing a life 
Que magnificos pensamientos para un día de Navidad..!! bueno para cualquier día. Coincido plenamente contigo Brianda. Es buena la sensación de sentirse próximo a alguien con quien se comparten ideas como las que expones. Ojala vaya aumentando el numero de personas con pensamientos similares. Sería muy beneficioso para ellos y también para los que los que estén próximos a ellos.
Gracias por tus escritos Brianda.
So true. I’m with you. We know so little and even that little is not for sure. But I agree, one thing is for sure and is that feeling that takes my breath away when I look at the beauty of our Universe, love in its purest form!
You’ve got a fighting spirit, cuz, and are not easily fooled. But I gotta question that dual universe notion and keeping the balance and everything is perfect. What kind of nostrums are these? From my little desk in the classroom things look pretty imperfect if one takes a close look. Our mortality being the chief culprit and what we do with our alloted time coming in close behind. The only perfect thing I have ever come close to admitting is God and his plans but understanding those takes real submission and work. If we could only glow things right. Give me a break. Not criticizing you, girl, just Hope someday I will have that perfect Love filling me up and overflowing.
The difference in sensation between hope and plenitude can be compared to the difference between coffee and cocaine, polyester and wool, an old typewriter and a sleek streamline keyboard.
Hope can be well packaged in bright colors and come with the illusion of KNOWING THE TRUTH, one of the most irresistible drugs on the planet. Pride coupled with justifiable war on others almost convinces that THIS IS IT. The seduction is astonishing. Some of us pursue it to the gates of insanity or death.
But alas, have you tried this, asks the moth flying into the flame. Plenitude satiates at all levels even when its leaving as we go back into a sophomoric drama of MORE. I notice it going and I love it as it disappears behind slogans of hope and I drift back into dream.