Skip to main content

Eyes Wide Open

When I began this blog, I was just stumbling on the heart of a new way of being. It was all very new, ground breaking for me in my life, and leaning toward an intellectual understanding and synthesis of matters over mind--in other words, there was the idea that I just needed to become proficient at tackling the mind.

Tonight, I was reminded by my friend Nige, at what has been behind all the words on this blog all along--the stories, the proclamations, the testimony--even if at times, I got caught up in my own war stories.

This all began as heeding the call to wake up.

I realize that this new way of being is becoming less intellectual, and often living and breathing in the moment-- deconstructing stories, finding relief, and Love, sometimes in an instant.

I am humbled by how easy it is becoming to choose love, and how easily it is being reciprocated. Seems that when an authentic love is extended, there is nothing left to fight.

This morning I had some Jehovah's Witnesses come to my door. I saw them wielding their Bibles, and fancy literature, and I felt a slight twinge of regret about the fact that I'd never gotten around to that no soliciting of any kind sign. I also felt a little excitement. Because I often don't even know what I will say or how I will react these days, and well, that just makes it kind of fun. I just wait, and tune into the perfect reality show, Me, Without All My Crap. It can be surprising at times to see what takes hold, because it isn't a me I recognize.

My kids were wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to have visitors, and it just felt right to go ahead and open the door.

The action of answering the door felt natural and deliberate. Where were all the sensations of anxiety? There was no desire to engage in any intellectual or spiritual debate, nor was there any need for them to see themselves from the outside, as birds of prey--none of that existed. There was only an openness to the experience, and the strong, clear knowing that it is only an illusion that we are really separated by beliefs, conditioned ideas and stereotypes.

The gentlemen wasted no time in pulling out the big guns, and cordially asked me my stance on evolution vs. creationism, right in front of my children.

The sun was shining bright, and my kids waited with ready ears for my response. Did I think the world was created by God, or that we evolved from single-cell organisms?

It was so interesting to be put in this situation. (No pressure with my kids waiting to hear my response, or anything).

However,the moment I responded feels frozen in time, because the response felt outside of time, but inside of me, as me (whatever I am).

I simply said, "You know, I think that nobody really knows for sure, but all that matters is Love. But if someone is interested in studying either theory, that could be really fun."

I was a little surprised at what hopped out of my mouth. Truth be told, I was always rooting a little more for the fish that had grown legs on the back of cars--but I realized that needing to take any side was long gone. It just didn't matter--no more fighting over semantics. No more fighting over personal interests and preferences. Let it be.

What was beautiful was the man's response. He just stared at me for a moment, like I'd give him a fresh glass of lemonade, that he wasn't expecting. He thanked me for what I'd said--like maybe I'd reminded him of something.

And that was it. So simple, and so different from the heaviness I used to feel interacting with those I deemed 'a-little-too-fanatical'.

I took his literature, because it had pretty pictures, and who knows, I might find it interesting to read about the different camps.

He took my words, my acceptance of him, and perhaps a new place where we could meet, outside of the debate.

I like this place outside of the loop.

It allows for all of it to be here on this planet, and for us to enjoy all of the rich stories we've invented, to create amazing things to experience-- lots of interesting and intricate concepts to keep our minds busy with.

But perhaps the time is upon is, when we will no longer be asleep, slave to protecting our stories at all costs.

Our stories will be merely preferences, will make life interesting, and no longer will our ideas and beliefs separate us or bring us to the battle fields.

I think both Jehovah and Darwin would approve of that!


  1. this blew me away, brooke. thank you oh so much for sharing. xoxo

  2. Brooke... this blew me away (too). Thank you xxx

  3. Wow, I am going to take a note from this. I grew up in that tradition and it has always irked me when people pass out of that type of literature. LOL. On some level, I've been clinging to my beliefs as rigidly as I judged them to be. Learning so much!


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

I want to remind me...

My thoughts drift back to when I was a child. I had a little toy kitchen sink and stove, no nouveau riche set, à la pottery barn, but very basic and snap together. It was set up in the unfinished basement on top of orange Muppet shag rugs that covered some of the cold concrete. There was a giant TV that looked like it had been built in a giant dresser. One top of its console lifted to play vinyl records and the other to play LP’s. Look it up. My kitchen was set up in the corner by the window well, where I could see cobwebs and spiders filtering the outside light shining through. I don’t remember playing much as a kid, but I do remember cleaning up the toys stored in giant Tang cans down there--organizing and reorganizing them at my mom's bidding, to rest the perfectly sorted toys in glowing metallic green cylinders, on pastel yellow metal shelves, the quiet yellow that sort of softened the Muppet rug domination, but added a utilitarian feel to the unfinished basement. I shoul