Sunday, March 11, 2012

Pain Pushes Until Vision Pulls

Pain pushes until vision pulls.   I had scribbled this on a piece of paper ages ago and just found it at the bottom of a closet I was clearing out. Its odd, just when I think I have made this shift to living out of vision, something happens.

 Maybe as long as we are human, pain will present itself as an natural option only now the choice is whether to water it and grow it into an ouch tree with roots and branches and leaves so sensitive to the touch that a perimeter of hardness must be created to guard against contact…or go through it, all the way to the other side. The other choice I am learning to rest in is, in the immortal words of the fab four…let it be. 

And when vision calls now, I answer. Even in the middle of the pain or discomfort I will answer. It can be in a piece of music, a scent, a texture or a light bulb moment of fashion festivity when I realize my motorcycle boots will work perfectly tonight with my short pleated black skirt, and wide metallic hip belt. If this sounds too hard edge don’t worry fashion police, I will wear pearls…long black ones wrapped around my wrist.

Vision can be found lurking, waiting, tempting, whistling for attention... just about anywhere.

This kaleidoscope of creativity, sensuality, pulls me into a feeling state…whenever I allow my imagination to unfold uncensored and reign as if it’s real. I feel a leap of excitement in my heart and then that uncontrollable explosion of smiling, that inhale of pure pleasure and acceptance where every nuance of the experience is taken in fully. The details are always changing but the intention to let the feelings that arise nourish my essence calls for cultivating a state of constant receptivity.

You will not receive if you are not already open to receiving. That state calls for trust, for letting the pull lead you and guide you without analysis and evaluation. Risky? At times, the ‘what if’s’ creep in and they will play havoc with your mind. Yet as long as I stay true to returning to pure acceptance instead of control and strategy, then my heart’s desire can pull me instead of pain pushing me into reactivity. The freedom in all this is quite simply that this is always an option regardless of content.

And for those times when you might forget, there are your mighty companions, your tribe. That’s what we are here for, to give each other a little elbow nudge of “Hey friend, you seem to have forgotten how much you shine, how powerful you are. Frankly, when I hang out with you I need sunglasses.”

Pain pushes until vision pulls.

 I would rather the latter even with its messy, out of the box, swirl of possibility.
I will raise a glass in this direction tonight as I head out for a long overdue visit with my old friend to L’Abattoir Restaurant in Blood Alley.

The food here is so good you might find yourself raising a hand for silence so your taste buds can fall into pure pleasure. Try the beet root salad with Tallegio custard, pears and pumpkin seeds.

Tonight, I will order a Vesper, a refreshing burst of lemony goodness in a Martini, inspired by Ian Fleming in Casino Royale

Branded by lemons,
Authentically Yours

Vesper Martini
3 oz. Dry Gin
1 oz Vodka
1/2 oz. Lillet Blanc
In a cocktail shaker half filled with cracked ice add the gin and vodka, then the Lillet. Shake then strain into a chilled martini glass rimmed with fresh lemon. Add a lemon twist and take off. Vision doesn’t mind a little mellow lubrication.

James Bond first ordered a drink to be shaken in Fleming's novel Casino Royale (1953) when he requested a drink of his own invention which would later be referred to as a "Vesper", named after the Bond girl, Vesper Lynd. After meeting his CIA contact Felix Leiter for the first time, Bond orders the drink from a barman while at the casino.

'A dry martini,' he said. 'One. In a deep champagne goblet.'
'Oui, monsieur.'
'Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?'
'Certainly monsieur.' The barman seemed pleased with the idea.
'Gosh, that's certainly a drink,' said Leiter.
Bond laughed. 'When I',' he explained, 'I never have more than one drink before dinner. But I do like that one to be large and very strong and very cold, and very well-made. I hate small portions of anything, particularly when they taste bad. This drink's my own invention. I'm going to patent it when I think of a good name.'
— Casino Royale, Chapter 7: Rouge et Noir[5]

No comments:

Post a Comment