End the Fight

Mark Landau

Description

A gift of healing, love and evolution, meaning, insight and deeper understanding. Our true life stuff, the Great American Eclipse, the unclaimed self, the milk of the sun, the end of everything, our terror, rage and pain. Reclaiming what we've suppressed, blocked and displaced. Assimilating, internalizing and actualizing all we are and all that is. Living our wisdom, maturity and vulnerability.

Sujets

• Mind
• Alternative medicine

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 15 octobre 2017
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781506904986
• Langue: English

Extrait

End the Fight

Mark Landau
End the Fight
Copyright ©2017 Mark Landau

ISBN 978-1506-904-97-9 PRINT
ISBN 978-1506-904-98-6 EBOOK

LCCN 2017956834

October 2017

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing,Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part ofthis book publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, ortransmitted in any form or by any means ─ electronic, mechanical, photo-copy,recording, or any other ─ except briefquotation in reviews, without the prior permission of the author or publisher.

Cover photo byMeg Townsend

mark-landau.com
Other books by MarkLandau


The MiracleRevolution

What We Can Do

The Love andForgiveness Meditation

I Love You andForgive You:
A TrueSelf-Healing Tool and the Life Around It

Archetypes,Election, Evolution:
America’s Denialof Democracy
Dawn

Day

Night

True Talk Therapy

Our Lifelong Habits

A Different Kind Of Darkness

The End Of Everything

The Milk Of The Sun

Hope
Ifa man can learn to develop all his inherent and latent powers there is nothingthat he will not be able to apprehend. For the knowledge is in man the same wayit is in God. Only a heavy veil of darkness hides it from view and prevents hisseeing these things and understanding them.
ArthurRimbaud via Suze Rotolo
Chapter 1
Dawn

On August 7 th , 2017, Iawakened for the second time at 4:40 AM to the rerun sexual thoughts I often have.Not wanting to indulge, I consciously segued to the thought of being with whatstill remained of my unclaimed self. And then, seemingly, for the very firsttime in my seventy-one years of doing everything I could to heal myself, othersand the world, the totality of all I had not yet been able to access and healcame forth to be cradled and held.
It took the form of a flattened,pulverized, golden, protoplasmic life-energy pancake, the stuff of the never-fully-developedbeing I was still semi-living. And I was able to hold it in my figurative and literalhands, be fully with it and breathe love and acceptance into what it had been beateninto and what it could become if it were only allowed to come into being.
So I lay with this great,ongoing gift for some time and then got up to pee, water my face, nostrils andmouth, take a sip of my Canadian glacial runoff and get my firm meditationpillows to sit up in bed against the wall and thus hold it during most of mymorning meditation, to love, forgive and cherish its poignancy and the healing reliefthis brought as I coaxed it upwards from its crypt in my broken belly to the fullnessof my accepting heart.
It ‘so happened’ this was a fullmoon day. And when I arose after forty minutes, it was still dark and theperfectly round, yellow moon was setting outside my small bedroom window. Thismoon resembled, like a precious overtone, what remained emerged and vibrantly accessiblewithin me and I stepped outside onto my small, rear patio to more fully appreciatedthe beauty of the outer and inner gold before coming to my computer to typethis.
The very best part of us is the most vulnerable. Itis the gentle, quiet, creative, tender, embryonic life stuff that is the mosteasily wounded, damaged, repressed, suppressed, stuffed, attacked and chasedaway, our infant love, trust and joy but also later aspects of our innersensitivity. We are wisely wired to protect ourselves from suffering theexperiencing of being violated by encrypting the wounded part of us behindwalls. But it cannot be destroyed. It is still there. It’s our job to find,regain and renew it.
I had read about those who couldwalk their life carrying this living vulnerability gently with them but knew thiswas still beyond me because, even after all my work, I had not been able totruly encompass what had so early and often been so hurt and had so completelyreceded to protect me from the pain it still contained.
Unlike those who had reclaimed andset it free, I still lived with it imprisoned no matter how much I had initiallyblindly groped and then consciously sought to heal it. I still well knew and fearedwhat I experienced the innumerable times I’d approached, perceived, touched orheld what I could of it, briefly or longer, silently or crying for unbearable minutesor hours, to siphon off as much as I could of its pain—when I would temporarilyopen the hurt locker till it became too overwhelming or exhausting, only to perceiveit again being shut away to curtail that unbearable torment.
But this was different. Somehowit just emerged, set free from the prison that had protected me and kept meparalyzed my entire life.
So far, it wasn’t going back.
How could this finally happen sosimply and easily, so non-dramatically, so differently and seemingly totally?
How could it have taken so verylong?
Who can answer such questions?
But better late than never.
The most precious stuff of ourlives is locked away, cut off, inaccessible to our daily living. It is our bestpart that so rarely shines.
We are all mixed. We somewhat knowour dross and gold.
But, somewhere, we carry all ourtraumas, those still unprocessed from previous lives, those we inherit throughour ancestry and those that we have accumulated from conception onward. And they,intimately bonded with great gobs of our most tender life stuff, get stored in avault within us as the spirit child embryo of our developmental being.
This yolk/data central/moon-sunof our lives contains the history of our pain—all that was too traumatic tofully embrace in real time—and constitutes half of our inner infant/innerchild/unformed, developing unclaimed self.
The other half, intimatelyconnected with it, is all our aspects we were taught were not allowed, unacceptable,to necessarily be stifled and suppressed. The more brutally we were taughtthis, the more pressure we had to exert to contain, keep contained anddisassociate ourselves from those reviled parts to forestall the hurtful orviolent reaction of our caretakers.
This half dwells like a cagedmonkey within us, sometimes quiet but often impatient or enraged, impelling usto do things our better selves might refrain from.
The more we’ve had suchexperiences, the more our best life stuff is compartmentalized and unavailable.
Reclaiming it is the hardest,most valuable work we can do.
But it’s harder for some thanfor others. Not all are traumatized equally. Not all are equally sensitive,resilient or able to let go. But we all must work with what we are, what wehave and what’s been ‘done’ to us.
It is also true that some folkstake part of this precious life stuff and send it far away to protectthemselves. But this is rare. And wherever it is, it can be found andreintegrated.
There are many things we can doto reclaim all of what we are.
And it’s essential that we do.
The more each of us does, themore we help ourselves, our loved ones and the world.
It is the inaccessibility of ourbest life stuff that impels us to harm.
We lash out at ourselves,others, God and the world to compensate for what we have lost.
The monkey gets loose and rulesus for a while.
We are not inherently cruel.
We are only small and vicious tothe extent that we’re cut off from what we hold dear—the love and vulnerabilitythat history has carved away from the beauty of our souls, the mighty aspectsof our being that weren’t allowed.
Once we regain ourselves, weregain the eternal state of grace that allows us to be decent and the true,mature power of comprehensive wisdom.
It is truth that we areinherently decent, free, full of love, wonder and generosity, that we trulywish all beings well but can exert effective strength when necessary—that weare still, in a phrase, maturely innocent.
But we have so lost our naturalstate that it’s all but been forgotten.
We live as shadows in the halflight, like on the cover of this book.