Eek to Eureka!
What theft and killing taught me
“One must love the world and its people, not feel repulsion for them. There is nothing wrong with the world — the Divine is everywhere.” Mother Meera, Answers Part I
Sunday night my glorious mountain bike was stolen from our yard. About a year ago, the cars were broken into. This year someone, or someones, came those steps closer — they entered through the side gate to take the brightest and nicest of the bunch.
It feels violating when someone comes into your sacred space and seizes something they didn’t have permission to take.
While humans are of the animal kingdom, we are the only species I can think of that deliberately and unconsciously disregard both natural and universal laws: reverence, honesty, and interdependence. Savor that for a moment. How much more evolved are we now? What other species causes not only the extinction of those around them but also their own?
Do I find it interesting that on Friday I just so happened to feel inspired to empty my rack packs of personal belongings? I would have found it more intriguing had I paused to ask why. Then I would have locked the bikes in the Shibumi (aka Man Cave).
While I am bummed, I am not attached, for the bike is on an adventure of its own. Things come and go. It is the feelings of territory being encroached upon, the breach with mankind that is most disappointing…
I felt the intrusion that night, and I even saw with my mind’s eye that someone was coming in through the gate. But I brushed off the knowing. It is not a lack of hearing I have, although no doubt I could s l o w d o w n — thus allowing all the senses enough time to continue percolating their treasures of information. It is the acting upon intuition that is my perpetual lesson of learning. And, I am growing into it.
Every movement the cat made last night woke me with alert! “Is that the sound of the gate? Is someone here?” I dreamt two people went beyond and broke into the house. They were armed and killed my mate with a knife when he went to stop them from entering further into the house. I then shot the two men.
In the next dream, most of my family was out-and-about for a neighborhood gathering. My youngest godson and I were the only ones home. I made sure we were “safe” and that every door was locked. But it was daytime, surely no one would come, yet I knew someone would.
While doing the rounds, I discovered a hidden door behind the curtains that had not sealed, and someone had come through that opening and was in the house!
My godson was upstairs, I felt to go to him. I found him sitting on the floor with fright-filled eyes. He gestured that the intruder was in the master bedroom, so I crept through the hallway and peeked around the corner. I witnessed a man hastily rummaging through our drawers. I launched at the man and went full throttle mama bear on him. Something in me even saught gratification in my badassness as I unarmed the man and made him screech with remorseful pain as I twisted his arms, forcing him into submission. I called 911.
The man cried and wailed, I felt compassion for him, and whatever drove his motive; I backed off slightly. As the man felt me release force, I saw his eyes wander to the pair of art scissors standing in a ceramic container on the dresser, the man reached for them, but I was quicker. I jammed them into his chest. I was sure he was dead.
Time moved sluggishly, and I was sure the police should be here by now. I stayed with the body — my animal instinct to protect still vigilant. I felt empathy for the soul, and prayed for grace.
Finally, the Sheriff rolled up. He was four to five times the size I had imagined he’d be when he clambered out of his vehicle. Apparently, he had just finished eating and was taking his time finishing up the last dessert bite. I was shocked by how a man of law could be so nonchalant about such a serious situation.
The Sheriff looked at the man on the gravel beneath the tree. He then said to me, “you know self-defense is still manslaughter.”
The burglar broke my silence with gurgling; he was still alive! It seems he was playing dead. Other vehicles with flashing bright lights appeared. As the stretcher was being hauled over to the ambulance, the Sheriff said to the semi-conscious man and me, “you know you two share the same Aunt Ina.”
(Pronounced “ee-Na”)
I didn’t know an “Aunt Ina,” neither of us did. That’s when we simultaneously saw her face; a Divine energy and presence made itself known. She smiled at us with sympathizing and forgiving love, showing us we were family.
The Collective Takeaway
I don’t want to live in a world where every door, den, and nest needs locked. I want to live in a world where each abode and temple is respected, honored, cherished, and celebrated.
I want to live in a world where we all remember we share the same “Aunt Ina,” who lovingly reminds us to be good to one another because we are family — interconnected, interdependent, one.
True family does not steal from one another, and there is no essential need not met. True family does not wreak havoc, disturb, or destroy another’s home for their selfish wellbeing. True family does not kill one another. The Sheriff is right; killing another is still manslaughter of kin.
This morning as I collected little red gems of pomegranate seeds, pulling pieces of white pith off juicy morsels, I recalled being told a little about Jungian Psychology; when we have a dream, every character represents ourselves. The victim, the bad guy, the hero, the Divine: every archetypal character is me. All are me, and I are all of us. We Are One.
“When you know you are divine you can become completely human…” Mother Meera, Answers Part I
