It is what you choose…

 It is what you choose…

He woke up in a startled haze. His heart galloping to the rhythm of his afflicted breath, a curtain of fear clouding his discernment. Marcos had just had a strange nightmare… as if they weren’t all. 

In his dreamscape he had perceived himself in an immense open space where the ground was simultaneously there and not. An endless nothingness which gave birth to earthquakes, volcanoes, worlds that rose and fell, screams and distress. Nowhere for him to take shelter from the destruction which however did not affect him. He was just witnessing all of it without being able to do anything to change what was happening.

At the same time, behind him there were soft breezes and tranquil sounds unfolding but he could not turn around to see this, no matter how much he tried. That destructive landscape before him was so intense and captivating that nothing else could grab his attention, even though he felt a strong willingness to turn around and behold something completely different.

And it was with this turmoil that he woke up in a panicked crescendo, with vivid images of what he had just witnessed still flashing in his consciousness.

He turned upwards and started breathing deep into his belly, letting himself calm down and gain awareness about everything he had just gone through.

Marcos had been wanting to change his way of life for a while. Effort, suffering, fighting no longer made sense, but as soon as he felt himself getting stronger and heading towards something nicer, immediately there was an avalanche of not so nice things to deal with. Nevertheless, there was something inside of him that said it was just part of the change and all he had to do was persevere and be patient. 

Right now, in the wake of his nightmare and while he was breathing, it became clear that it was really his choice. Choosing to let go of all of that adrenaline that made the dramatic world go round, definitely, and stepping with both feet into a new way of life.

He had already seen it. He knew it. He was lucky enough to have two close friends that lived that reality - peaceful, generous and loving - all of that which he really longed for.

When he was with them and looked at the world that they had been able to create, the issue was that it seemed too good to be true.  It was as if he could not deserve so much, as if it were too overwhelming, too intense - more than he could encompass in his wide heart which still had to widen way beyond what he was capable of logically conceiving - if he was to live all of the fulfilment that his friends were a real example of. 

It was literally as if they were living in a parallel reality. It was so very different from what he was used to seeing around him and what he had known so far. Hmmm but it felt so good to be with them. It was a warm love that cuddled and embraced, sweet and soft. Brilliant. This was what they reflected towards anyone who was willing to receive it. And they couldn’t help it because it was simply their own reflexion. Different and unique, each one of them and when together also a much greater whole than the sum of them both. 

So he had to decide. He had to choose. Sometimes he felt bad to be turning his back on suffering and leaving everyone else to it but then he remembered that by becoming whole and free from the  dramas of duality, he would be a constant contribution to a more harmonious and loving world, spreading the grateful joy of being alive with effortless ease and grace.

He heard the voice of his consciousness, kind and compassionate… “Trust. It is what you choose that matters. There are as many realities as you choose to allow into possibility and by allowing your choices to manifest you provide their possibility for everyone else as well. Choose. Trust. Allow. Create and act. Move the energy of your consciousness and live it.” 

He definitely had to respect and care for himself much more and to be coherent with his choice. There could be no indefinition.

He knew by now, because he had already experienced it several times, that whenever he reaffirmed his choosing and became more caring towards himself, he had a few very beautiful days, followed by some pretty hard ones.

It wasn’t the days themselves, but the way he felt about himself that produced the struggle. Everything he did not like about himself came forth like a deluge and he had trouble grasping all of it. But he could no longer afford to deny himself the acceptance of absolutely everything that was a part of him.

With no judgement. He had had enough of playing hide and seek and pretending that those less acceptable parts could be eliminated or sent somewhere out into the ethers and destroyed. They couldn’t. It was literally impossible. It would be like cutting one’s legs and arms and extracting all of one’s essential organs and still expecting to survive. These parts that he had so far deemed unacceptable held within them a great deal of wisdom and had been essential throughout his path. He had created them! He was the creator of his own parts. And thus no one else could “fix” him or “heal” him from himself.

He took a deep breath and released the ball of fear that had found a safe space in his heart, letting himself fall into the peaceful love in his core. Nothing else. He was available. Receptive. Ready to embrace himself entirely. 

And the compassionate alchemy of complete acceptance started opening breaches in his walls and cracks in his doors and windows. Opening. Opening. It was time to become whole with himself.

So much to receive. So much richness in each experience he had had so far. He was the only one who could choose to open or close, to stay or to leave, to love or to fear, to integrate or to separate… He was the one who could choose the Earth he wanted to create for himself.

Everything in him was valuable and nothing was too good to be true. There was actually no other truth than the one that he allowed. 

É o que tu escolhes…

 É o que tu escolhes…

Acordou em sobressalto. O seu coração galopava ao ritmo da respiração sôfrega e uma cortina de medo cobria-lhe o discernimento. Marcos acabara de ter um pesadelo estranho… como se não fossem todos.

No seu mundo onírico vira-se num descampado imenso onde o chão nem existia nem deixava de existir. Um nada sem fim do qual nasciam terramotos, vulcões, mundos que se erguiam e desmoronavam, gritos e aflições, nenhum lugar onde se pudesse refugiar daquele descalabro que apesar de tudo não o afetava. Apenas assistia sem poder fazer nada que alterasse os acontecimentos. 

Ao mesmo tempo, nas suas costas aconteciam brisas suaves e sons tranquilos mas não conseguia voltar-se para ver esse cenário, por mais que tentasse. Aquele panorama destrutivo era tão intenso e cativante que nada mais lhe prendia o olhar, ainda que sentisse dentro de si uma vontade imensa de poder virar-se para o outro lado e ver algo bem diferente.

E foi nesta aflição que em crescendo acabou por acordar em pânico, com imagens vívidas dos cenários a que acabara de assistir.

Virou-se de barriga para cima e ficou por largo tempo a respirar fundo para se acalmar e ganhar discernimento sobre tudo aquilo que acabara de vivenciar.

Marcos andava há tempos a querer mudar de vida. O esforço, o sofrimento, a luta já não lhe faziam sentido, mas mal se sentia a ganhar força e vigor rumo a algo mais aprazível vinha mais uma avalanche de coisas menos agradáveis. Havia no entanto dentro de si algo que lhe dizia que fazia parte - tudo isto fazia parte da mudança e que tinha que perseverar e ter paciência.

Neste momento, no desaguar do seu pesadelo e enquanto respirava, começou a tornar-se claro que era ele mesmo que tinha que escolher. Escolher desapegar-se de vez de toda aquela adrenalina do mundo dramático e entrar com os dois pés numa outra forma de vida.

Já a vira. Já a conhecia. Tinha a sorte de ter duas amigas chegadas que viviam precisamente essa realidade tranquila, generosa e amorosa por que ele ansiava.

A questão é que quando estava com elas e olhava para esse mundo que elas tinham sido capazes de criar, parecia bom demais para ser verdade. Era como se não pudesse merecer tudo aquilo, como se fosse avassalador e intenso demais - mais do que ele conseguiria abarcar no seu largo coração que ainda assim teria que alargar muito para além do que ele era capaz de conceber logicamente para poder viver toda aquela plenitude de que elas eram o exemplo vivo.

Era literalmente como se elas vivessem numa realidade paralela, de tão diferente que era daquilo que ele via ao seu redor e conhecera até então. Hmmmm mas como sabia bem estar com elas. Era uma amor caloroso que afagava, doce e aconchegado, brilhante. Era isso que elas emanavam para quem quer que se permitisse recebe-lo. E não conseguiam evitar, pois era simplesmente o reflexo de si mesmas. Diferentes e únicas, cada uma delas e quando juntas também um todo maior que a soma das duas. 

Por isso tinha que decidir. Tinha que escolher. Ás vezes sentia-se mal por virar as costas ao sofrimento e deixar todos os outros nessa condição. Mas depois lembrava-se que ao tornar-se inteiro e livre dos dramas da dualidade, seria um contributo constante para um mundo mais harmonioso e amoroso, espalhando sem esforço a alegria grata de estar vivo.

Ouviu a voz da sua consciência, cálida e compassiva… “Confia. É o que tu escolhes. É isso que importa. Existem tantas realidades quantas escolhas permitir tornar possíveis e ao permitir que se manifestem também as proporcionas como possibilidades para quem mais queira assim escolher. Escolhe. Confia. Permite. Cria e age. Move a energia da tua consciência.”

Tinha definitivamente que respeitar-se e cuidar-se muito mais e ser coerente com a sua escolha já feita. Não podia haver meio termo.

Sabia, porque já tinha visto isso acontecer inúmeras vezes, que sempre que reafirmava o permitir-se ficar mais cuidadoso consigo mesmo, vivia uns dias bem bonitos logo seguidos de uns bem difíceis. 

Não eram os dias em si que eram difíceis, mas mais a forma como se sentia em relação a si mesmo. Vinha tudo o que ele não gostava em si de avalanche e tinha dificuldade em abarcar tudo. Mas não podia mais negar-se a aceitação de absolutamente tudo o que fazia parte de si. Sem julgamento. Já chegava de brincar ás escondidas e fingir que essas partes menos aceitáveis podiam ser eliminadas ou enviadas para os éteres e destruídas. Não podiam mesmo. Era literalmente impossível. Seria como cortar os braços e as pernas e todos os órgãos essenciais do seu corpo e esperar sobreviver. Essas partes que até agora vira como inaceitáveis continham uma boa dose de sabedoria e tinham sido essenciais no seu caminho. Afinal de contas era ele o seu criador. O criador das partes de si. E por isso mais ninguém o poderia “consertar” ou “curar” de si mesmo. 

Respirou fundo e largou aquela bola de medo que se instalara no seu peito, deixando-se cair no pacífico amar no seu centro. Nada mais. Estava disponível. Recetivo. Pronto para abraçar-se inteiramente.

E a alquimia compassiva da aceitação plena foi abrindo brechas nas suas paredes e fendas nas suas portas e janelas. Abrindo. Abrindo. Estava na hora de se inteirar em si mesmo.

Tanto para receber. Tanta riqueza em cada experiência vivida. Era ele que escolhia abrir ou fechar, ficar ou sair, amar ou temer, integrar ou separar… Era ele que escolhia a Terra que queria criar.

Tudo nele tinha valor e nada era bom demais para ser verdade. Não havia, aliás, outra verdade que não a que ele próprio permitia.