Last night I wrote a note, attached it to this letter my grandma wants to sent to the family. She is selling the house and wishes to inform them. I did not promise her I would help. I told her I would think about it. I decided that, last night, I do not want to support the selling of the house. I do not want to be involved. While I can not be certain, I think this is what my heart was telling me.

But today, just moments ago, before reading that passage from Rumi, which I have shared here, but as you can see, obviously ties in very well with this, I realized that only someone with a lack or limitation mindset would want to keep the house. Especially since said person doesn’t really like the house or the grounds around it. You have seen my posts here, I am at odds with this property.

If such a thing as the ego exists, it is only the ego that is concerned with keeping the house, under the noble disguise of keeping it in the family. Yes, once the house is sold my dad’s side of the family will be homeless. Yes, I will be homeless. Yes, my parents will be homeless. Yes, there will be little in the way of an inheritance for the grandchildren. These are are certainly truths.

But is it really such a bad thing to be homeless? Can I really be considered to be homeless as long as I live on the earth, which I am a part of, which is, ultimately, my home? Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to practice what I believe, what I have preached? To make it work, to go out and follow my heart, once I can clearly hear what it has been trying to tell me all these years?

Sure the house could stay in the family. I could stay here. I could live for the next 40 years here, and die. I could bury my grandmother and my parents. I could continue to live in this house, and I could die, with my music still inside of me, to coin a phrase from Wayne Dyer. It is certainly the safest and most secure path. It is the most certainly the most logical and responsible thing to do. It is also certainly the kind of decision someone ruled by their head, and not their heart, would make.

It is absolutely stupid, in every conceivable way, for me to bike my ass out of here. To just hit the road. Even if I stop for a while at a meditation center. Eventually I would be on the road again. There is no certainty and little if any safety. But what it lacks in these it makes up for in opportunity. How much opportunity exists here? I am 39 years old, on a town that the Christian religion has a stranglehold on. Not much in the way of social opportunities, the chance to meet someone, or spiritual support here.

So it may be stupid, but the path of the heart is not the path of the intellect, as a general rule. If I was Spock maybe the path of the intellect would be fine. But I am not a Vulcan. I am a human, so I must tread the path of the heart, if I am to experience any bliss, joy or peace in my life. If I am to find someone to share my life with, and spiritual support. Sure it could exist here in this area. The problem is this area is no longer calling. I have an itch I must scratch to go elsewhere. There are a different class of people I want to hang out with, the kind of folk who fit in at Burning Man, for example.

It occurs to me that by letting go of my desire to keep this place in the family, I am stepping out in faith and trust. I am not moving from a place of the ego, or the intellect, the ego’s right-hand man a lot of the time. The intellect is the angle on your shoulder, appearing all sweet and innocent. The heart is the devil on the other shoulder. But the devil only looks like the devil because you see these entities on your shoulders through the eyes of the ego. In reality the devil is the intellect, and the heart is the angel. I have had enough of listening to the devil. It is time to turn to the angel, the one appearing as the devil, and listen to that.

And she is saying to demonstrate unconditional love. To love my grandmother, no matter hoe she may appear to be in my perception, no matter how she may actually be. She could be the most horrible person in the world or the sweetest, kindest person in the world. I could see her as self-centered, giving little thought to the family, or I could see her as generous, making a place for me to stay here the last 7 years. It is always my choice how I see my grandmother.

Why is that important? Because ultimately it is about how it affects me. If I see my grandmother and self-centered it will have a definite effect on the way I treat her. On how I hear what she says. On how I see what she does. It will color all of that. I will make grandma my enmity, and so receive apparent or real enmity from her.

But if I can look at her through the eyes of love, if I can somehow as much as humanly possible, see her as Source sees all of us, then that will also affect how I treat her, how I interpret what she says, how I feel about what she does. It will color all of this. There will be no enmity, real or imagined, between us.

It all starts with simply letting go, stepping out in faith and trust. To stop resisting and start supporting. Be there for grandma this month, while I am here, support her in what she is wanting to do. Be confident that everything will work out, everything will be OK. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. Even if, by any outside observer, things are not OK.

It is not about how things are. It is about my response to what is. I can accept it or reject it. I can perceive it as good or bad. If I was very spiritual, even enlightened, I could accept it simply as it is, without labeling it as good or bad. But I am not there yet. So the best I can do is look at things as if they are good, whether or not they are, and keep this faith and trust that the Source provides. That everyone has to walk their own path, and maybe this is grandma’s. Maybe this is ultimately the best thing for everyone. Maybe I need this extra kick in the pants to leave the nest. No bird learns how to fly by staying in the nest!

So for the next few days I have to tune into my heart, I have to adjust my perception, change the focus, and figure out if and when I am ready to let go of this place, supporting my grandmother in her trying to sell it.Ultimately I think I would feel better doing that than leaving here feeling strongly that we should keep it in the family. That is a sure recipe to keep me in turmoil, instead of allowing me to be at peace.

I think I would rather experience peace than turmoil. I think I would rather feel good than bad. even if others, looking at my life, feel sorry for me because of how shitty it appears to be. If I can blissfully play around in the feces, ignorant that I should be disgusted with it and unhappy with my circumstances, maybe that is a better way to live. Better blissfully ignorant and happy than unhappily resistant and angry!

But maybe my life will actually improve. That is also a possibility. It is with that light at the end of this tunnel I shall proceed.


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