POWER - 12-12-2013 - Inspiration from Source -Inspiration from Source - Words are powerful - be mindful of how you use them. I say it all the time. Words are my aphrodisiac. What I don't usually talk about though - is how words are also instruments of torture. I mean really - the worst moments of my life have not been from sticks and stones - I have been bruised and used most by well sharpened mortal weapons of sound. Even worse, I have been told I did not deserve any more words - and silence is a heart blow.

The recent passing of even more friends, the harsh actions of past friends, the angry words I see exchanged on friends' walls, and the moving play I saw yesterday - THE STORY OF MY LIFE - have me really thinking on this. Words are the most powerful tool we have. Do we want to use them to cause pain, or do we want to use them to heal the world? I sometimes think more time is spent on the first, than on the second. Why?

This is the truth. I know that more than once I have injured someone with language - deeply cut them - and not even seen how far that word has traveled. Once a word is said, it leaves the speaker - the wound is on the receiving end and the splatter pattern can be surprising. Even a tiny pin scratch can leave a scar. So what does a word shaped like a knife do? What does a word meant to "shock and awe" do? And can "love" really conquer all once one errant word has cut a heart in two? Can it erase the scars? Does silence fix anything? So many questions.

If we look at words as the burning ember end of a cigarette - could we still put them out on another person's soul? If we thought someone was hemorrhaging love through an open wound created by our words or lack there of - would we fix it? I know I would - if I had a time machine - go back and fix, word by word - syllable by syllable - every mistake - as the anal-retentive publisher of my own life story. I would delete and replace and make my life a lot more boring. 

Some scars heal without a blemish, but many linger with us for an entire life. Some believe these scars can still linger from past lives (Lord I hope not! I'm having trouble dealing with the ones from this one!) Whatever the case - how responsible am I for your scars - and how responsible are you for mine? I still think that if I put it there, then before I leave this plain, I want to erase it. I take responsibility. If you will let me.

Mindfulness is a double edged sword - it provides great release, but as we are mindful, so do we remember. My year of learning is teaching me that I have trouble with the yogic advice to "release and move on." I move on. I do not release. In fact, I think maybe the biggest mistakes of my life have been in "releasing" too soon. I've been surprised, in retrospect, at my capacity for love. Even when the cigarette still feels like it is smashed and smoldering deep under my skin - there is love.

I am realizing that the most painful relationships -the ones that have left the most scar tissue - are now the most important ones of my life. Maybe this is because for a long time I put a numbing agent on them called forgetfulness. I have stopped dabbing the wounds and am looking at them. 

Sure I love happy memories! But the burns, the deep scar tissue - that's where all the learning has come from and it's where my story is. Sometimes a perfect looking life has all the makings of a Stephen King novel. Maybe that's the theater in me - why tell the story if there aren't "high stakes" in it? 

If I told the story of my life, sure, I would have to talk about the kisses and the hugs and the moments of blissful love - but I would probably spend a lot more time on the back turns, the fist palms, the wall slides, the knife-like verbal slices and the tiny, searing, cigarette burn wounds of well placed intentional words. If I told the story of my life - silence would equate to a horror story. 

If my words have ever been interpreted by you as "mean" or "harsh" - just know that I am always, and ever, loving you and working on myself. There is not one person I have ever known that I do not love. And some of you, I love even more. Give me a call and I'll tell you so. Or better yet, since I don't give good phone, show up at my door and I'll invite you in. 

Namaste and happiness to you in this season of forgiving, this season of giving love.