She started out her. A babe. Without much consciousness.
Then the world's gift to her — parents, family, church, home town, teachers, books, music, art, friends, TV, all that she encountered — shaped her.
But was that really her?
It's like the real her, the naked babe, was given scales to put on one by one, year by year. Each scale was a piece of armor, for protection and for control. Society is the armor manufacturer.
If a person is fortunate, over time, consciousness grows and she begins to discover the real her under the armor. If she's very fortunate and determined, she begins to pick off the scales like scabs. One by one they come off, sometimes bleeding when done too quickly. No longer does the armor define her. Now she begins to live in society aware, wanting to be clothed only in the minimal self-accoutrements necessary for survival, enjoyment, authentic identity.
Is there a different light from such a person? Daily she picks at the little scales covering her still, which could be untruths, not who she is, not what she really believes if she lets her heart and mind know and understand what lies beneath "facts" and "right" and "wrong."
This can be exhausting work. But over time, with simple awareness (it doesn't have to be complete), she can sense a scale forming in its early stages. Then she examines it by picking at it, asking questions about it, meditating on it, and either tearing it off or seeing that it really is hers.
Who is she? Who am I? Who are we?
ReplyDeleteTo paraphrase a line from "The Lion King," we are more than we have become. Indeed, what we have become is simply the product of conditioned thinking imposed upon us by society and its constituents — parents, teachers, religions, cultures, etc. True becoming, however, is the rediscovery of one's authentic life, the sacred life that was given to us a split second before we mortgaged it to society. True becoming is more subtractive than additive. It's the loving removal of the corrosion and barnacles that we have dragged around like chains for so long. And who do I speak of here? Me, you, all of us, I think — all who are called to the unfolding of a truly abundant life.
Don't you just love this word, "becoming" — this notion of coming into BEING?
George, thank you for your congruent and amplified response to what I've written. I love how you've said it, in each statement. It really is a subtractive process.
DeleteBy the way, this began as "Who am I?" and all the pronouns were first person.
Yes, I love the movement and possibility of "becoming" as being-expanding. In a way maybe this process can be seen as growing from the inside out, rather than picking off scales. One of my favorite passages of The Way of Zen by Watts so far is when he says:
The important difference between the Tao and the usual idea of God is that whereas God produces the world by making (wei h), the Tao produces it by “not-making” (wu-wei i)–which is approximately what we mean by “growing.”
How great is the idea of creation as being grown, not made? Growing is from the inside out, whereas making is construction, or sculpting. So maybe my conceit of the scales could evolve into something more like the self growing and pushing the scales of convention off from the inside.
Self awareness is more important than anything we adorn ourselves with. The self is self-made, with care and in response to evaluating the many options around, including those that were once automatic, born in.
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting conceit, the growing of feathers, the attempts at flying...
Rosaria, yes. I'm grateful that you understand. I have fleeting thoughts that someone might think of this as narcissistic. But it isn't, it's fundamental. And essential for someone (like me) who was raised to lay down the self sacrificially, without ever understanding or knowing it.
DeleteThank you for the feathers, yes!
sounds like "she" and "I" are on the same page...
ReplyDeleteYes, Wendy. And also our photos are along the same lines (my small photo today and your gorgeous fox tracks).
Deleteyes! and the just the other day I kept stopping to look at snow in branches, some fragment of almost-poetry accompanying the way it settled, nestled, was held and protected by the bare wood. The photo you posted before is the diminutive version :)
ReplyDelete:-)
DeleteDear sister Ruth, babe,
ReplyDeleteYet, even while burdened with all the accoutrements of society's armor, her light still showed. We liked her even if in a moment of time she knew little of her heart or, perhaps, did not like herself.
I like the concept of creation growing. It suffers growing pains - how else could it find itself groaning? The birthing process comes to mind, i. e., creation continues to birth us, to bring us into the light of day.
It is good to know that the world has given us as much as we have, scales and all. That you (as observer) can now see her in better light means that we, those of us "who are called to the unfolding of a truly abundant life," as George wrote, we see ourselves better, thank God.
xoxoxoxoxox
Thank you, Nelson. You have always stood before me as a beacon of goodness. But truly, it is a blessing I never expected and am deeply grateful for that you have become a friend. That you are growing in the evening of your life is an immense treasure to me. May we never stop unfolding until the day we die, and may our lives become more abundant.
DeleteMuch love to you and Peg and the whole family in this sad time losing Bud.
xoxoxoxoxox
I do feel that we are organic in our being - and becoming - and though it's not visible as with flowers for example, growing new leaves and petals and them fading in autumn and winter, still, something essential does emerge from within. We are lucky I feel to have or to make the time to consider and contemplate our lives. Thank you for sharing your journey and insights Ruth and thank you enormously for your sensitive and perceptive thoughts you posted on the passionate transitory re IM Will Smith, I feel very honoured by the close attention you paid to it.
ReplyDeleteOh thanks, Morelle, for responding here. I so enjoyed diving into your beautiful poem and exploring the layers of it.
DeleteThis so resonates with me. It takes a lifetime to pick thru the scales and re-discover the real 'her' that lies beneath. Beautifully written - as always.
ReplyDeleteMany thanks, Marcie.
DeleteOh, Ruth. This is so beautifully and lovingly written in kindness to you and all of us who long to go higher up and deeper in.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Boots. It's never done. [happily]
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