Greta Thunberg Standing on the Fulcrum of Fear & Love #IChooseLove #kidyoga #dremoto #watercrystals

Photo Credit: Pixabay

It has felt, for many months, or maybe even many years, as though we are collectively teetering on the fulcrum between fear and love. Some days there is a slight tipping toward love, on others I feel fear pushing its heavy weight into our hearts and there is a slipping towards an abyss that I care not to imagine. Yet, how can we not face our darkness? There are nights when I dream of the Earth caving in upon us, her mighty tongue lapping us back into her dying body.

Two days ago, I sat in a circle of 22 children and talked about love and fear. Although they were no older than 10 yrs. old, some of them already knew of the science behind our emotions. Before I pulled Dr. Emoto’s book The Secret Life of Water out of my bag, one child offered her scientific observations on two apples. One was spoken words of hate, the other words of love. There was an unease to her giggle when I asked her which one had decayed first. Although there is a knowing deep inside each of us, it is sometimes difficult to allow ourselves to understand the effects of our emotions.

We don’t always want to own our energy, or the fact that our energy is intricately woven with all life. If we talk love to water outside of us, it forms into a beautifully exquisite crystal. If we talk hate to water outside of us, the water separates into an ugly mass striving for cohesion. To me it resembles a bacteria smear on a petri dish. Each day it is fed fear, more toxic colonies grow.  It’s worth thinking about what the water inside of you is doing, as I discussed with the children while they gazed at the photos of proof.

Everything, in essence, is energy. Somehow, over the course of thousands of years, we have learned to crave density. We amass wealth in the form of condensed energy thinking it will bring us joy, but we should all know that the tighter the wrap, the more difficult it is for the light to get shine through.

The scientific proof is there, yet many of us care not to see it. Just like the scientific proof exists, and has for many decades, that our climate is indeed in a state of crisis. A crisis brought upon by our individual and collective choices to push the lever towards greed. We care not, for the most part, to see what is going on outside of us or inside of us through the lens of science and truth.

This morning, I decided to scroll through a few comments on Greta Thunberg’s Twitter feed. I have been thinking about this courageous and brilliant young woman a lot lately, and how she has chosen to weather our collective storm valiantly without fear of personal attacks. Of which there have been numerous. One needs only spend about thirty seconds on Twitter to see there are nearly equal tweets on the spectrum of fear/hate as there are on the spectrum of love/reference for this truth seeker and speaker. I found myself amazed, yet not really surprised, by how many people self-righteously send out the energy of hate towards a young woman whose only motivation is to save them, and in the process herself and the planet we all share. It’s mind boggling in its essence. Yet, it’s not. Some of us really like our fear and hate. It makes us feel powerful with all its lies and self-loathing so that we forget that we are harboring and feeding a cancerous mass inside of us.

It would be amusing how much we fear the truth if it were not so disturbing. I have realized, over these past several days while thinking of Greta and all the courageous youth who are standing and speaking up with her, that somehow, quite miraculously it seems, we have birthed new generations who do not hold onto fear the way most of us do. Perhaps it is because they have not yet lived long enough for fear’s weight to grow into a cancerous mass inside of them. I like to believe, though, that somehow they were born with an immunity to it.  That finally, we are moving toward the light as we push fear’s weight into the abyss from which it came. If I don’t believe it, the alternative is unimaginable.


The flying squirrel as a metaphor for thoughts #flyingsquirrelsymbolism #dreamsymbolism

medium_15549799756photo credit: makitani via photopincc

I almost dismissed the dream. Another release dream, I thought as I woke with the lingering emotions of irritation and frustration. Then I began to examine the metaphor of the flying squirrel and why it took the leading role in my dream.

I was in a large, multi-storied house. It was my house although it was not the same as the one in which I reside in. And, it was undergoing renovations. The renovations where absorbing a lot of time, finances, and physical, and emotional energy, as they often do. My recollection of the dream begins on the main where I watched a flying squirrel fly and land throughout  a white room. My family was with me and we were all trying to capture it, but it managed to evade our attempts.

It is worth noting, at this point, that I have experienced the challenges of having a flying squirrel inside of my present-day home. Not once, but twice. On both occasions, the flying squirrel had made its way to the basement, where it quite successfully evaded capture by my two cats. Flying squirrels, if you have had the mixed-pleasure of meeting one, especially in your home, they are rather cute little critters in an unnerving way. They have huge black eyes that stare unblinkingly into the very depths of your soul as you try to maintain the stance of a brave warrior. When you look away, and you will, they fly, soaring to their next perch in a blink of the eye that causes your heart to stop and your body to arrest into panic. It doesn’t matter that you’re dealing with two pounds of furry cuteness. This foe is silent, unpredictable, and quick. And, did I mention those eyes?!

Well, you’ve got the picture by now. Back to the dream. I’m not sure if we managed to catch the intruder, and it doesn’t really matter. When we walked to the attic, which was quite large and expansive, with high, peaked ceilings, what we discovered was much worse that what was happening below. There were nests everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, and I knew we were doomed. The task of recovering the house from the squirrel invasion seemed overwhelmingly futile. I was about ready to throw in the towel when I woke up.

Naturally, those emotions lingered as I was pulled into the waking dawn. The day progressed, and I began to think about those flying squirrels and why they had made their way into my dream and, well, into my body (as the house metaphor). And that’s when it hit me. They were thoughts. Thoughts that begin in the attic, or the mind, and find their way of invading the lower floors of our bodies, evading capture as they find a place to hide. I couldn’t think of a more perfect metaphor if I tried.

The flying squirrel is a nocturnal animal. The owl is its primary predator. As you ponder this, consider how they invade our houses (and bodies), often coming in through trees (as they had in my dream) and making their way down from the attic into the lower levels in their attempt to hide, and ultimately to escape capture (even though what they really want is a safe, warm place to call their own, while also trying to get back to their natural habitat).

A thought also follows this pattern. First it invades the space of our mind, often nesting before it breeds more thoughts that are related to the first one. Eventually, those thoughts, when we choose to keep them, and breed them, make their way down to the physical body, finding dark, warm places to hide and live. But, like the flying squirrel, they don’t really belong in our body-as-home, they are meant to fly free, outside of the mind. They are meant to come and go, but never take up permanent residence. When they do settle into our bodies, thoughts turn into emotions that stagnate and cause discomfort. When these thoughts-turned-emotions arise from those dark places of fear they become attachments of energy that create dis-ease.

My dream was a warning. My mind’s way of saying get rid of these fears before they breed and travel. It seems at least one had already escaped. Although it’s not a pleasant “thought” to linger on, I’m okay with it. I’m going to let it go. I’m going to trust that in each moment we are offered the choice. We can hold on, or we can let go.