I was driving to town yesterday when I remembered that my dear cousin Agatha hadn't sent me a card or flowers following my surgery in February. I love Agatha, but I am often exasperated by her. Sometimes I think I should stop working so hard to maintain our relationship. And now I had proof: she hadn't thought enough of me to send even a card as several other friends had. I was getting ready to get myself all riled up.
But I put my soon-to-be-rampage on hold. I paused. When I got home, I did
The Work of
Byron Katie, a process of inquiry. I turned the thought around 3 times with ho-hum results. Then as I was putting my worksheet away, I remembered: I had received an orchid from the meditation center where I teach, and I hadn't sent a thank-you note.
How sneaky is that? I'm the guilty party, but since that's very unpleasant to consider, I slap my projection onto the nearest handy target: Agatha.
It's all projection. Our world is entirely made of our own fabrications. And the thing is, we believe them.
There's no "out there" out there. It's all happening in here. The things we call "out there" are actually "in here."
We love our dualisms--in here / out there, me/her, us/them. And really, it's all just Life unfolding.
