Liberation

Today I learned an important lesson about liberation:  Some people don’t want it.

Yes, I know all about Stockholm Syndrome, but I thought that only applied to people who’ve been locked up – in one way or another – by others.  It never occurred to me that those who’ve locked themselves up can also, similarly, resist freedom.

Myself included.

I am mitochondrially aware that the moment of liberation from one’s own self-created prison is a dizzying, blinding one.  One can get The Bends from such a rapid ascension.  Some don’t make it.  Some become bitter.   Still others stay inside, despite the open doors and drawn curtains. 

Mulling over situations that continue to deteriorate no matter how much heart I throw at them, I realize:  The more you actually, truly, honestly, genuinely, compassionately love some people, the angrier they get. 

Then I realize:

That’s me.

*I’m* like that.

Still.

After all of that love.

What I see so clearly in others is the truth about myself to which I am blind.

The love and loyalty I’ve been giving Anger – hoping it’ll transform -- I now give to myself. 

I transform by removing myself from Anger’s reach.

Anger never wanted love and loyalty – or transformation -- in the first place. 

I did.