Razumem, da Življenje rešuje tako, da dviguje zavest, da povečuje Svojo prisotnost v meni… bolj kot sem zavestna, manj nasilja je lahko v meni. Življenje je Ljubezen in kjer je ljubezen, je milina, razumevanje, krotkost in sprejemanje. Nasilje izberem takrat, ko sem šibka, ko se ob vsej veličini, obilju in dobroti življenja počutim sama in ogrožena, ko se torej zanašam le na lastne moči in se zaprem med ozke stene svojega jaza. Iz te majhnosti ne opazim veličine Življenja in ne opazim njegovega Reda, zato v bran sebe in svojega uveljavljam svojo voljo. Vsak napor jaza je za Življenje nasilje! Šibkost je nekakšen sajast in smrdeč izpuh umora boga v meni, uničenja življenja v meni. Ironija in lepota tega je, da tega ne more zame in meni narediti nihče.
Kadar sem v moči, se ne počutim sama ali zapuščena, četudi sem do vratu v ‘blatu’, in četudi od vsepovsod letijo duhovne ali stvarne puščice. Kadar sem v moči, sem živa in široka in razpeta kot orlica čez valove vsakdana. Noben pljusk greznice me ne umaže in nobena grožnja me ne iztiri iz viševskega preleta. Z vsakim nasiljem, ki se zgrinja nadme, sem preprosto pomirjena, ker sem opravila z lastno nesnago.
Zato zaustavim svoje konje, ne bičam svojih rabljev, ne pljuvam svojih zasmehovalcev, ne udarjam po tistih, ki me tolčejo po glavi in ne zaničujem tistih, ki omejujejo mojo svobodo, če nočem končati na peklenski gugalnici, s katere nihče ne pride živ. Ljubim se torej, če le morem. Nadenem si duhovni prisilni jopič, zavežem si usta in ne dovolim, da bi me prešinila ena sama grda misel o dejanjih drugega, kaj šele, da bi jo izrekla ali udejanjila. Obmirujem! Preneham brcati, sprostim se, pomirim se s seboj in z drugimi…. in Reka me sama nosi proti večnosti Oceana.
Zdaj se spomnim, da sem lepa, da sem božanska, da sem Lepotica in Boginja, ki se še spomni svoje vzvišenosti nad duhovno umazanijo. Spomnim se, da znam ljubiti, najbolj tiste, ki si najmanj zaslužijo, a najbolj potrebujejo. Ti oropanci ljubezni, ti begunci iz Kraljestva, ti jetniki lastnega jaza trpijo neskončno bolj od mene in trpinčijo naprej, ker še niso doumeli, da je to valuta, ki se ne obrestuje. Zato skrbim, da je luč v meni prižgana in prižgem jo lahko samo jaz. In samo jaz jo lahko ne prižgem. Strašno! In čudovito obenem.
Vedno se gre zares in vedno se gre za moje življenje in za mojo smrt. Če verjamem v nasilje, prav, a naj ne kažem s prstom na druge, ki jim tako rada pripišem zasluge za moje nečedno obnašanje. A če stojim za svojo izbiro Ljubezni, potem ne iščem več izgovorov, zakaj nočem Sijati.
Sijte in bodite sijajni, Marjeta Šumrada
Life needs me where I am # 2 – Do I want to love myself?
I understand that Life saves by raising awareness, by increasing Its presence in me… the more conscious I am, the less violence there can be in me. Life is Love and where there is love, there is grace, understanding, meekness and acceptance. I choose violence when I am weak, when, with all the greatness, abundance and goodness of life, I feel alone and threatened, when I therefore rely only on my own strength and shut myself up between the narrow walls of my ego. From this smallness I do not notice the greatness of Life and I do not notice its Order, so in defend myself and all I call mine by imposing my will. Every effort of the ego is violent for Life! Weakness is a kind of sooty and smelly exhaust of the murder of God in me, the destruction of life in me. The irony and beauty at the same time is, that no one can do this for me and to me.
When I’m in power, I don’t feel alone or abandoned, even if I’m in the ‘mud ’up to my neck, and even though spiritual or real arrows are flying from everywhere. When I’m in power, I’m alive and wide and stretched like an eagle over the waves of everyday life. No splash of the septic tank gets me dirty and no threat derails me from the high overflight. With any violence looming over me, I am simply reassured because I am done with my own filth.
So I stop my horses, I don’t whip my beheaders, I don’t spit on my mockers, I don’t hit those who beat me, and I don’t despise those who restrict my freedom, if I don’t want to end up on a hellish swing from which no one comes alive. So I love myself, if I can. I put on my spiritual straitjacket, I shut my mouth, and I don’t let a single ugly thought overwhelm me over the actions of another, and much less utter it or put it into practice. I stop myself! I stop kicking, I relax, I reconcile with myself and otherss…. and the River itself carries me towards the eternity of the Ocean.
Now I remember that I am beautiful, that I am divine, that I am a Beauty and a Goddess who still remembers her sublimity over spiritual filth. I remember knowing how to love, most of all those who deserve the least but need the most. These robbers of love, these refugees from the Kingdom, these prisoners of their own ego suffer infinitely more than I do, and they continue to torture, because they have not yet realized that this is an interest-free currency. So I make sure the light in me is on and only I can turn it on. And only I can decide not to turn it on. Scary! And wonderful at the same time.
It always goes for real and it’s always about my life and my death. If I believe in violence, fine, but let me not point the finger at others to whom I am so fond of attributing credit for my indecent behavior. But if I stand for my choice of Love, then I am no longer looking for excuses why I don’t want to Shine.
Shine and be brilliant, Marjeta Šumrada
solahosta.com 
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