Today, like so many other days, wind howls on my island of extrems. We are an indoor culture, our homes are nests, our plants thrive indoors not outdoors. I am on edge these days, sometimes I am not sure if I belong to this human race. Sometimes I think I am truly a visitor, an alien on this planet, puzzled by the acts of horror and greed this human race is doing every day. Is that all a part of me? Could I if put in the same circumstances commit such deeds? I don´t know, I don´t think so, but honestly, who am I to say. Would I kill, torture, rape others if I was living in the insanity of fear? Perhaps, perhaps. Could I choose to do so now? NO, I would rather die, death is not the source of my fear, the source of my fear is an undercurrent of collective sadness. Sadness based on not being able to do more to help restore sanity on this planet. The people living on this planet are basically insane, they are living in the dream of hell, described so simply and plainly in the Mastery of Love by Don Miguel Ruiz.
I sometimes feel like, when i look around me that I am witnessing a tragicomic soap opera, the drama all around me, usually based on illusion or the result of the fearful running away from fear by creating more fear. How absurd is that. I am working on understanding how not to participate in this, and I admit that sometimes I am just as crazy as the rest of us. I allow fear to run through me, guilt, anger, envy, despite the fact that I know how silly and indeed pathetic it is, when one knows about these pitfalls.
I want to understand what drives people further into the dream of hell. In all religions the description of hell resembles our own world too much for not noting it. My dream might be a bit crazy, but I dream we all wake up to the fact that it is OK to be happy and that all humans could would live with joy, gratitude and compassion as the element that drives us to act.
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