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  • M. J. Robertson

The Lost Dream Remembered

What does it really mean to feel special? Does our individual ‘specialness’ and cultural worship of celebrity destroy our collective value and sense of Oneness?

We live in a perceptual reality of contrast and duality, where we are tunnelled into a world of achievement, glamour and the pursuit of the ‘American Dream’ while at the same time being shown images of poverty, extreme violence and disease which are beyond comprehension and most certainly beyond any real sense of justice. According to the tabloids, everyone’s got a chance of fulfilling ‘the dream’.

A World Where Anything Goes

Within a few short decades, we are now living in a world where anything goes, an aspect of our aliveness which is commonly accepted by a new exploitative generation of talent shows, easily accessible pornography, social media, reality t.v. and overnight fame. But what of the dreams we don’t hear about; the cries of pain, dreams of a better world, with no famine, no disease and true justice? That dream seems to get hushed by the mainstream media and we end up dis-heartened, alienated by the ‘how’s’ of how to actually get anything of value accomplished, how to un-condition ourselves enough to have the courage to step outside convention and to be who we truly want to be. Instead, our pursuits are fragmented into successes and failures, winners and losers, right and wrong, rich and poor, good and evil…who will be the winner of the next millionaire game-show? Who will win the ongoing war?

Believing in Yourself

See, growing up, I was taught to ‘believe in yourself.’ But, this motto only seemed to apply if I chose an acceptable offered path of becoming a) a teacher, b) a lawyer or c) a doctor. When I expressed a desire to perform I was told there was a very slim chance of that happening, ‘honey, only one in a million succeed in that business’ or ‘it’s like winning the lottery.’ Ten years into that pursuit, I let it go…defeated, broke and clueless (and obviously, a big fat failure) by my mid-twenties, I had no idea who I was or what I was meant to do.

The only place to go was within…I couldn’t afford anything else.

For many, the idea of happiness is just that, an idea; a feeling that is always just out-of-reach. Not until we earn more money, or fit into the right size or find the perfect man or woman are we going to be happy. Fleeting pleasures occupy our burning desire for lasting joy, so we keep shopping, wanting to find that dress that’ll make him notice me even though I don’t really need it, can’t really afford it and deep down know that it isn’t the dress he’ll notice, it’s me. Keep dieting, rewarded through starvation, desperate to look like the girls in the magazines until the temptation to eat is too strong and we go tumbling back down that corridor of despair, hiding until we have the ‘discipline’ to starve again. Nearly there, but never quite reaching the heights of true bliss and happiness. Instead, a feeling of being stuck, isolated, not good enough and under a deeply entrenched illusion of fear.

Selling Happiness

Happiness has become a mere advertising tool; a symbol used to manipulate the masses into buying more meaningless stuff, to compete with each another, to play pretend and then pretend to be happy. For some pretending is enough. But I got tired of pretending real fast, horrified and confused by the rules that seem to arrogantly deny the wellbeing of more than half the world’s population. I can see that as long as I continue to desperately pursue the ‘dream’ maybe I won’t notice that the world is corrupt by fear, frozen in apathy and totally unconscious when it comes to consumption.

Happiness is real. The world we have created is not.

The further in you go, the more your perception shifts, you begin to see layers of illusion lift and you feel the honesty behind the pretend smile, whether it be genuine joy or painful denial. Our world is in need of some sanity, love and deep compassion. Our love and compassion is real, we just don’t tend to learn about it, promote it or reward it in our sensationalist monopolized world. True compassion is reserved for the Dalai Lama, the Pope…the rest of us ‘common’ folk ought to ‘get real’ and play by the rules: keep competing, hate each other and do whatever it takes to be special.

The beauty is that we know. Somewhere deep within, beyond the conditioning, the learned behaviour, the entrenched and often dysfunctional thinking patterns, we know that it is all an illusion; one of our own making.

The Illusion

So, why do we keep telling the story of separateness? Who does it serve? Well, it must serve those who believe in it and therefore rely on separateness. If we are fearful and always striving for specialness, we keep consuming in destructible ways. We remain distracted, blinded by the lights of the newest gadgets, glossy magazines and most recent fashion trend, all advertised to fill the void of loss and cover up our deeply held anxiety at being alone (or separate.)

But where do I end and the other begin? What is my purpose? What am I to do with all this aliveness? There is at least, a sense of ‘I am here.’ I am alive, present in human form, having thoughts, desires and feelings, trying to muster some sense of importance and specialness, but never really succeeding because I can feel my ego get high from being special and then beat me down when someone else gets the ‘special’ baton. Maybe I don’t want to be on that egoic roller coaster of winner/loser, better/worse, success/failure…maybe, I just want to be me.

A New Mental Exercise

A new mental exercise: I tell myself a different story. I consciously withdraw from the mainstream and make a new world story in my mind. Instead of reminiscing on all that went wrong or didn’t work out how I planned, I choose to focus on all the love and happy memories. I spend time guiding my mind to a better feeling place until I am absolutely over-the-moon with this life that I am living. Miraculously able to accept and transform the pain into compassion, the resentment into forgiveness and the suffering into life lessons. There is no good or bad, only how I feel about it. The more I embody the vibration of the new story I tell myself the more I begin to feel different. I am consciously practicing a new vibration for myself and it feels wonderful.

I am Free

I am free. I feel wonderful. Life is amazing and infinitely abundant. There is enough for everyone and all is well. I am perfect just as I am. Life gets better and better. I am always guided. I am never alone. All is One. Be with the Oneness. Let go.

I am beginning to remember. It is the sweet gentleness, the ease, the flow, the beauty and serenity of being alive. The awe of expanding into infinite love and feeling it move from within to uncover any blocks and to open the mind to see more clearly. It is incredibly freeing and there are no words for the depth of gratitude I feel.

I wish for all to feel love all day every day and to know that we live in a paradise. The dream we are fulfilling is not outside of us, but within us all, as One.

Namaste to all & All to Love,

Molly :) xo

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