Japan. Tragedy. Suffering. And disconnect for me. I should stop and be silent and honor their pain. Or I should weep and wretch my insides to honor their pain. Or I should live more brilliantly to honor their pain. Or, It is pain and I should dishonor it with a rising fear of Armageddon. Or I should dishonor their pain with anger at overpopulation and nuclear power.
Or, I should do nothing. Nothing it is.
I think to the moment of the birth I witnessed. The preceeding suffering was immense and consuming. The child exiting the womb was a song of piercing intensity and beauty. I, the watcher, the beholder, the support....I held the new child all sweet and quiet and present in my arms and we gazed at each other in silence. His mother, the suffering woman was writhing while a man stitched up the deep cut the child had created. She was all pain and love and I, the undeserving bystander was the recipient of grace.
And, I think to the moment when I first killed. I held the soft rabbit I had fed and cuddled in my lap with a woman next to me helping to steady it's body. I raked a sharp knife across it's throat once, then again to be sure and held it as it's life left. I was exhilerated. I was living, I was the powerful death-giver. I identified with ChaSka and her delight in killing. I wanted to do it again.
And to those moments I was conduit. I could be deliciously unattached to the pain. I was affected deeply but I was not the crying mother and I was not the frightened rabbit. I loved them. I held them. I respected them.
I was embodied Earth who says "this one stay" "this one go" loving each position the same. I exercised this goddess power when I murdered the embryo inside my own womb. "this one go" And also when I rescued a tiny drowning honeybee from a pool "this one stay"
It seems as though this ability comes from awareness of what is self and what is not self. But maybe not. I cannot say.