April 14, 2021
There’s a balance between trusting the integrity of information from outer sources, and relying on ourselves as the valid fount of our individual truths. I’m seeking that balance more and more these days.
Sometimes I can shrug off the unpalatable news offered by sources I deem reliable. On other days, I find that the first article or email I come across causes my heart to plummet. I begin to doubt my own version of reality and truth, where “all comes right in the end.”
Terrible things are happening worldwide, and, when they cross my field of awareness, I’m not always secure enough to withstand the information assault. My inner truth gets smothered by apparent outer reality, which is frequently in conflict with what I believe.
Outer reality, when physically imposed upon us, is hard to ignore (“Sorry, ma’am, you have to wear a mask to come into the store”).
Our reaction to the imposition is the reality we can control. Pretty basic emotional truth, there.
To take this emotional truth one step further, I’d say that it behooves us to be choosy before we even take in something that requires discernment.
In other words: am I ready for the bad news I’m likely to find? Can I step back enough to recognize that it’s my judgment that makes it “bad,” or will I just freak out at the latest atrocity hurled at humanity?
If we can’t agree with Shakespeare’s “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,” it might be better to hold off on looking at the “bad.”
Keeping balanced and applying discernment are incredible challenges for me. I’m realizing that my best path through this minefield is the one least littered with others’ opinions and self-declared expertise, and most sprinkled with rose petals from my own wellspring of inner serenity.
I’ll remember to avoid looking at outside “truths” if I’m a tad unsure of my equanimity. Because jumping into the panic and fear that is sprayed around like so much shrapnel from the war at the end of the world does me absolutely no good.
But smelling the roses makes me smile, even now as I write this, with not a real rose in sight.