pseudonymous
Obtuse Kineticist
I cannot remember when the first time was that I sat naked in front of the mirror in a symbolic manner, but I know the ritual started in my early adult life. In rare moments of lucidity, I would begin to recognize that there were patterns in my life that had not worked, were not working, and never would work to making me a healthy person. Although it was a harrowing experience to sit as judge and jury against my self, and the days following such a trial would be filled with a maelstrom of emotions surfacing, that enactment of the ritual always had me carving out new directions and potentials in my life that have helped me to become a more grounded, and loving human.
Since my journey has unfolded over the past eight years or so, the frequency of being naked in front of the mirror has greatly increased, which seems to be an effect of becoming aware of one's self. I have been faced with many skeletons in the closet, and many faults and frailties that have been faced as the obsolete child self was updated by the blossoming wisdom self. The process has become easier with each new ritual, and the recognition of the fiction of self that we add to in our mundane life becomes more and more apparent. Much of who I was had been based on reactions to other people's expectations of me, and not based on original thought.
In reflecting on the epiphanies and accomplishments of my journey, I have come to see that the ritual of being naked in front of the mirror has been replaced by the act of simply being naked. I seem to have found some degree of liberation from my established walls and masks that have been worn since infancy as defense mechanisms from living in limitation and separation from the external environment that I was incarnated into. The realization of this has had ripples throughout the pond that I inhabit. My family and friends have become much more open and loving ~ without conditions. The act of giving selflessly has become nearly effortless. I have found such a measure of comfort in my skin, that I respond with much joy and humor to my surroundings, rather than being on guard duty all the time. The effects of effects have spilled out into most aspects of my total being, and I am finally finding solace in my days.
Being naked is recognizing that the personality that you have arrived in this moment with, to a greater or lesser degree (depending on your inner work thus far) is not what you are, but who you are. The who that we are is based on reactions and expectations to our surroundings. The what we are is at the heart of the layers of patterns. The journey is the peeling away of the layers of fiction and lies (unconsciously created mind you). If we know that this rough stone contains a gem at it's center, or that our life has been a lie, then why fear exposing the lie to an audience of equally false existing dreamers?
We begin this nakedness by admitting to ourselves first, then in an ever arching circle next, that we are not perfect, do not know nearly as much as we pretend to, and are walking through our lives with one foot in our mouths, and the other walking across cut glass to get to some undefinable place in the distance. In being naked, we get to sit down, take the foot out of the mouth, pick out the shards of glass , and come to the very funny conclusion that we weren't walking towards anything. We were in fact on a treadmill the whole time. We were just standing still, with the illusion of living a fast-paced life at breakneck speeds.
How funny it is to finally see the lie that is lived. In that moment of illuminating self-discovery, time slows down, and the chattering mind has nothing much to say anymore because the tape loop has fallen below our state of being. You pick up the script and go over the lines that you have been reciting repeatedly like a skip in a record for decades, and all you can do is cast the script aside. Others will cling tightly to their scripts for the survival of their fictions, but you can become an expert audience dweller (or people watcher), and finally...finally know liberation from the dream.
I am without a doubt going to place my foot in my mouth again from time to time, but the taste is different these days. I can laugh at that self (which only surfaces when I pick up my script again, which is never far from reach for any of us). I can poke fun at it. I will forget my self sometimes and get over my head in ambitious addictions, but will soon come to recognize the character that I have played on the stage of life, and give it a round of rousing applause for its performance. Life is a beautiful gift, and indeed, a funny one from either side of the mirror.
©2003 DC Vision
Since my journey has unfolded over the past eight years or so, the frequency of being naked in front of the mirror has greatly increased, which seems to be an effect of becoming aware of one's self. I have been faced with many skeletons in the closet, and many faults and frailties that have been faced as the obsolete child self was updated by the blossoming wisdom self. The process has become easier with each new ritual, and the recognition of the fiction of self that we add to in our mundane life becomes more and more apparent. Much of who I was had been based on reactions to other people's expectations of me, and not based on original thought.
In reflecting on the epiphanies and accomplishments of my journey, I have come to see that the ritual of being naked in front of the mirror has been replaced by the act of simply being naked. I seem to have found some degree of liberation from my established walls and masks that have been worn since infancy as defense mechanisms from living in limitation and separation from the external environment that I was incarnated into. The realization of this has had ripples throughout the pond that I inhabit. My family and friends have become much more open and loving ~ without conditions. The act of giving selflessly has become nearly effortless. I have found such a measure of comfort in my skin, that I respond with much joy and humor to my surroundings, rather than being on guard duty all the time. The effects of effects have spilled out into most aspects of my total being, and I am finally finding solace in my days.
Being naked is recognizing that the personality that you have arrived in this moment with, to a greater or lesser degree (depending on your inner work thus far) is not what you are, but who you are. The who that we are is based on reactions and expectations to our surroundings. The what we are is at the heart of the layers of patterns. The journey is the peeling away of the layers of fiction and lies (unconsciously created mind you). If we know that this rough stone contains a gem at it's center, or that our life has been a lie, then why fear exposing the lie to an audience of equally false existing dreamers?
We begin this nakedness by admitting to ourselves first, then in an ever arching circle next, that we are not perfect, do not know nearly as much as we pretend to, and are walking through our lives with one foot in our mouths, and the other walking across cut glass to get to some undefinable place in the distance. In being naked, we get to sit down, take the foot out of the mouth, pick out the shards of glass , and come to the very funny conclusion that we weren't walking towards anything. We were in fact on a treadmill the whole time. We were just standing still, with the illusion of living a fast-paced life at breakneck speeds.
How funny it is to finally see the lie that is lived. In that moment of illuminating self-discovery, time slows down, and the chattering mind has nothing much to say anymore because the tape loop has fallen below our state of being. You pick up the script and go over the lines that you have been reciting repeatedly like a skip in a record for decades, and all you can do is cast the script aside. Others will cling tightly to their scripts for the survival of their fictions, but you can become an expert audience dweller (or people watcher), and finally...finally know liberation from the dream.
I am without a doubt going to place my foot in my mouth again from time to time, but the taste is different these days. I can laugh at that self (which only surfaces when I pick up my script again, which is never far from reach for any of us). I can poke fun at it. I will forget my self sometimes and get over my head in ambitious addictions, but will soon come to recognize the character that I have played on the stage of life, and give it a round of rousing applause for its performance. Life is a beautiful gift, and indeed, a funny one from either side of the mirror.
©2003 DC Vision
