I carried it with me: personal history. But it was so much more than just a story. It became an identity. It became a lense that coloured and covered over the direct experiencing of my teacher.
Maternal abandonment and rejection: this sad theme-song doomed to play out and be lived over and over in neurotic reenactments – because what we believe about ourselves we must manifest – until the information I carred was sensed and released.
To meet you again, my lama, directly open, new. To meet once more for the first time and as space receive you.
That is what I work towards. As repair my broken psyche, and come to make peace with my body-minds psychological limitations and handicap. I hope one day to meet you in that peace you show me.
And come to you as your teachings fully embodied.