“Truth comes to an innocent mind as a blessing and a sacrement. Truth is a holy thing because it liberates thought from itself and illumines the human heart from the inside out.” Adyashanti
The other day I sent a text to a friend that read “Love the Real,” as we were talking about the difference between “the fantasy” and “the real” in life, in relationships, and in love. What is REAL? Are we willing to get clear on the story aka fantasy we have created, and chosen to wear and live in like our favorite ratted old sweater? It comes down to choice. We have a choice to live in our fantasy world or in the story we have created, or we can choose to live in the present moment of the Real.
In my life, I have often loved my fantasy world, it has been a safe place for me, because I can flee what may be happening whether it be an uncomfortable situation, conversation, an unhealthy relationship, unpleasant experience, or simply boredom. This took me out of my body in many ways. I was disconnected from what was happening in my body. It made me sick. This I can now see, as I let the stories I have told myself being twisted, back bended, lumbar stretched out of me. Lately, I have been spending less time in my fantasy world, and more time in Reality and really present in life. This means being ready to face what life brings. It means seeing the face before me like a mirror. It means having an intense and possibly uncomfortable conversation and not running out the door, but having the conversation and being honest and vulnerable. It means finding joy in truly the simplest gestures, the sharing of a meal, seeing the moss grow on trees, and of course dancing.
It is in these moments that the truth appears quietly touching the moment in the letting go of the story.
A poem I have written on this theme…
“Love the Real”
Love the Real
I said to you.
Fantasy you falter
on a short string
the idea, ideal, unreal
tethered ropes of day dreams
hanging out in mind stuff
manifesting stories that seem real
like million dollar yellow diamonds you flash
like the “perfect” mate
like the platinum fenced in yard of the mini-mansion
like possible fame
like the wishes…
like tales of feeling unloved and tales of not being able to love
like the fear you spun and wove into your heart like a thick knitted scarf without openings
like running again…running and running.
Love the Real
it is the yellow daisy
growing through sand, broken glass, security badges, and fire ants
it is taking a leap to live your life
it is sitting naked
vulnerable to say these words
it is the fire we sit in
sharing the Real
& it is nothing more than this