Exit The Greek Theater

Emotional pain is likened to a Greek tragedy, and how we process it depends on where we are in our evolutionary growth. There are pivotal factors determining how we adjust our awareness to what we’re feeling, and also taking into account how our intellect and perceptions predict the reality of our pain.

We’ve all been there–committing to remain calm in the eye of the storm, or taking the high road by declining engagement. Despite our best efforts, we oftentimes breathe life into our pain, causing us to become trapped in our hurt bodies. These feelings of entrapment then escalate into projection–looking to find the villain, the abuser, the outside enemy causing us to feel pain. We engage this energy through a process of analysis and description, and as a result, we create the idea of a self-altered attack. Yet, little do we know that we’re the ones infusing hurt into ourselves, therefore solidifying and increasing the intensity of our pain.

There are too many ‘vanity hurts’ in society–personally, within relationships, and in families.

Self-created stress is the most prominent feature in the story of pain. That’s what humans like to do, we make things real, then act upon it. The innate human response to pain is to engage with it, to dance with it, to believe in it, and to place meaning upon it. Unknowingly, we desire to give it personality, existence, and to make it our own. ‘Cause and effect’ then enters center stage, which becomes the mapping point for choices to be made, and reactions to be delivered. This dynamic also gives us permission to act upon emotions that have not been deciphered through higher intellect.

All of which, sets an enticing banquet of events, enabling our convictions to become richer, deeper in color, more flavorful, and intensely personal.

There are too many ‘vanity hurts’ in society–personally, within relationships, and in families. For instance, if I said something about you in a negative manner, it’s not necessarily the words that hurt you, it’s instead how you put your mind to it, and the way in which you perceived it that caused the initial pain. In other words, when we hear words of discontent, we often direct our minds and emotions toward interpretation, toward the view, toward feelings, and then toward response. We’re the creators of this subtext, and we also manifest the characters played in order to answer it.

Once fully engaged in the Greek tragedy, we seek the villain, the abuser, and the victimizer to augment our stories of heroism.

We oftentimes function as if we’re part of a theater company, each taking turns setting the stage, co-writing the scripts, and even donning our costumes so that we may take part in the next drama. For many of us, we oftentimes don’t feel alive until this soul tickling spectacle begins. Once fully engaged in the Greek tragedy, we seek the villain, the abuser, and the victimizer to augment our stories of heroism.

Long ago, I was so terribly hurt by a friend, that the pain prompted me to make up all sorts of stories in my head. I thought endlessly about what the offense meant to me, how deeply I was wounded, about who this person really was, and how dare they do this to me! I also pondered deeply about how I should respond to what I believed was the insult that triggered my pain.

I then heard my inner-voice of intellect speak to me, “You have a choice to repeat this to yourself, which is what caused the pain to begin internally.” I then asked, “But why am I feeling this way?” The inner-voice went on to reveal, “It’s because you chose to bring the pain home–you carried it inside, and then transported it into your most sacred place.” I asked, “Where is that sacred place?” The voice responded, “Into your temple, into this beautiful being, which should only be filled with words that inspire.”

I admit that it took me time to digest this message from spirit, but it gave me peace that day. I later realized that my pain was a mirage-like illusion created out of malfunction. So, when I finally put away my theater costume, I began rewriting the script, rewriting my response to pain, and removing my character from the tragedy. In turn, I became a better storyteller, and more discerning of the ways in which I perceive things coming from others.

What if we created a new character–one that is not of this world, one that knows only love, and is so powerful that moves us into a new paradigm?

Despite whatever pain we’ve fed into at the moment, we each must recognize our roles in the Greek theater that plays out repeatedly in many of our lives. Are we contributing to the savagery, or shifting that energy somewhere expansive and regenerative? If we wrote better scripts, delivered words that create love, there would indeed be less pain.

When we learn to experience pain more appropriately (instead of simply observing and waiting for the message), we’ll then be able to give and receive a mental suggestion of some kind. A message that speaks a new language, creates doorways for others, and a ‘self’ with no resistance. One that’s able to heal, and to shift the molecular energy in order to become what it needs it to become.

What if we become a new character altogether–one that is not of this world, one that knows only love, and is so powerful that moves us into a new paradigm? In doing so, we’d be able to spend more time building upon greater ideas/innovations, and to discover profound ways to enhance life upon this planet. All of this can be, but it starts with you, and how you choose to see it.

 

Shaman Durek

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