Hari OM
I was reminded yesterday of the old Greek word for 'hatred,' which is "
misia." It is generally appended to subject/noun words, such as in something I read yesterday when it was put together with the term Hindu.
Hindumisia. I am not going to point to the article that generated it, for that itself was a disturbing piece. It was just another little tile in a mosaic building in the deep recesses of thought.
There are tears, throat-grabbing heartache when I spend too much time within those recesses. It seems that the entire world is determined now to find reasons to Hate and not Love.
The very word misia looks and sounds like misery, does it not? For that is what Hatred engenders. Hatred, and its concomitant feeling of anger, do not only bring down pain upon those subjected to it. The effects upon the psyche of the perpetrator are equally damaging - perhaps more so. The twisting of the personality must draw towards it the very thing it is attempting to project. It is a given law of being-ness that, in the casting of Love, one finds it is reflected back. This is equally true of Hatred. Indeed, by the very incendiary nature of it, Hatred flares readily, while Love has to be built. Hatred is for the lazy. Love is for those willing to put effort into being a human being.
Far too many folk these days are in love with the immediacy of feeling, wanting that quick fix of adrenaline or endorphins, and Hatred offers a quicker fix than Loving does.
There are many and complex factors for the state of the world... but consider this. You are in a family. That family expands. You are all forced, by whatever circumstance, to share the one building as your home. The family, by the nature of these things, continues to expand. The home that once seemed like a palace becomes a mansion-house. With each successive generation, the home feels ever more constrictive. Each part of the family seeks to mark a given room as theirs and theirs alone. There is trouble when a cousin or uncle tries to enter without appropriate permission. Not only are the boundaries challenged, but within each 'territory,' the family members are starting to grumble and argue and build up grudges as they each struggle for a bit of space within the room to call their own.
Arguments break out. Fights result. There starts to be hitting and kicking. Violence escalates...
Overcrowding has brought about family discord and factionalism. Particularly where any one part of the family thinks it has rights to greater amounts of the territory of that home.
How many of us correctly understand that this planet is that very home..?
Fortunate are the families who have elders to balance the battles and barter a truce. Where are the elders of this earth? Who will rise to brave the anger and temper tantrums bursting out everywhere?
One thing I know - because history is constantly writing it - every time the pot boils, without someone to adjust the pressure, the lid will blow. This... this is what sits in the dark recesses and causes the tears and the throat-grabbing heartache. It would be so easy just to wallow in misery, spitting out at the world, "what are you doing?!!" This would not serve my own psyche well - neither would it satisfy the spiritual imperative nor saadhana.
For that, in my own small corner of our home, I choose to emanate the aforementioned Love. I call upon all that rests in my Higher Self to manifest that Love. I seek to radiate the light of that Love. May this lamp light other lamps, and they, in their turn, light still more. In meeting that spiritual imperative, for saadhana to manifest it, I will keep writing of this Love. I pray that all my deeds meet the words and become the example that is wished for.
What each of us alone can do is a tiny drop, but oceans are created from billions of tiny drops! Will you join with me... start a tsunami of Love?
I am blogging this over at Wild YAM as well today. Not from laziness but because I feel strongly enough to have owned up to this deep ache, and it deserves to reach widely... if you read both blogs, forgive this reproduction.
