The Violence Within

There is a violence within every one of us; let us make no pious statements about being “saved.” In fact, as Vernon Howard would yell, “There is no one there to be saved!” And that was a muted scream at the non-existent ego to which he was speaking.

Most of the time I forget that I am a violent human being because at the moment I am not being challenged. Then suddenly it happens; I erupt over something inconsequential that masks the utter terror of being on this planet all alone.

All teachers disappear if they do their job well. All lovers fall away from each other and even the most precious children fade into obscurity.

What can we do with this violence? Nothing. It must simply be witnessed without condemnation. When I fall into rage at the unfairness of the earth realm, I see the ugliness of the universal ego. A Sufi said once that we are the outermost out and the innermost in. It is cold and lonely inside that barricaded figure at the window though.

Looking out at an unreal world brings an unreal pain. Who can quell the raging storm of not getting your own way?

Underneath the violence is a dark depression. Stay with it. It will turn to light when the time is right. I am typing these words because the time is right. This is the season for this essay. The world is being torn apart by the pandemic and the ugliness of the political scene. There is no escape.

Sometimes I know not what I do. Even then, I am being held by a mysterious hand.

Perhaps only one thing matters at the end and that is the heart’s honesty.

Look at yourself in the mirror and perhaps you will see nothing but the mystery and that is enough and plenty.

Rejoicing may be something you are not capable of, but an honest reflection is better than almost anything. If you can manage a smile, go have a cup of tea and a catnap. All is well.

Vicki Woodyard