‘There is no cruelty in God and none in me.’
No one attacks without intent to hurt. This can have no exception. When you think that you attack in self-defence, you mean that to be cruel is protection; you are safe because of cruelty. You mean that you believe to hurt another brings you freedom. And you mean that to attack is to exchange the state in which you are for something better, safer, more secure from dangerous invasion and from fear.
How thoroughly insane is the idea that to defend from fear is to attack! For here is fear begot and fed with blood, to make it grow and swell with rage. And thus is fear protected, not escaped. Today we learn a lesson which can save you more delay and needless misery than you can possibly imagine. It is this:
You make what you defend against, and by your own defence against it is it real and inescapable. Lay down your arms, and only then do you perceive it false.
It seems to be the enemy without that you attack. Yet your defence sets up an enemy within; an alien thought at war with you, depriving you of peace, splitting your mind into two camps which seem wholly irreconcilable. For love now has an ‘enemy’, an opposite, and fear, the alien, now needs your defence against the treat of what you really are.
Funny how suddenly I get this one, after three days of struggle. I’m not saying it’s without challenge, but at least I get it. It’s back to seeing others as a part of me, and therefore if I attack them I must also be attacking myself. Like going around punching myself in the face, calling myself names, thinking unkind thoughts of others. Staying in the energy of love and holding back from attack still requires daily effort.
Despite a very early morning (awake at 5 a.m.to get to the airport) and a restless flight (on account of the wailing baby in the seat in front), I am feeling calmer. And I did not wish the baby (or its parents) ill, did not fume and wish them gone, but sent them love and remembered the times when I travelled with young children.
This is my third visit to Gran Canaria and I’m always taken aback by the stark landscape, the lack of greenery. I always expect it to look like theCaribbeanislands. EvenAntiguawhich used to be a little on the arid side is not lush and green, thanks to the volcanic ash fromMontserratover the past fifteen years.
As I strolled through the restaurant complex at AmadorresBeachone of the proprietors tried to encourage us into his restaurant. When I said, ‘not now, maybe later,’ he burst into the song ‘it’s now or never.’ Much to his surprise and delight I joined in with ‘come hold me tight, kiss me my darling.’ And we finished the song together, to bemused looks from the afternoon diners. On the way back be broke into ‘ebony and ivory’ and I duly joined him again, this time to applause from onlookers. He said I was a very ‘nice lady’ and I returned the compliment. It wouldn’t happen inBirmingham, would it?