I recently posted an article about little tyrants, the violence of your reactions surprised me. Domestic or professional tyranny seems to be a hardship for many of you. Hence the desire to publish this supplement.
A hundred times on the job hand over your book, said La Fontaine. I listen to it and I get back to it. I had mentioned three cases of tyranny that seem less terrible and less humiliating than the daily tortures experienced by some. I could answer this: the stronger the tyranny, the more the warrior progresses. But this statement was not understood. Your reactions show it well. This article is therefore essential.
Far be it from me to glorify humiliation. The warrior that I am is not adept at masochism. Thus this reader suffered physical and psychological torture from an unworthy father. He is relieved to finally be out of paternal claws. He is 40 years old, his childhood is already far behind him, yet he is hardly an adult. The attitude of the seeker of light fascinates and attracts him, but because of the barbarity he has endured, his lack of maturity does not allow him to assume the impeccability of the warrior he would like to be.
This extreme case is supported by others, equally atrocious. There is this woman who has been beaten for a long time by her companion. Drunk and debauched, he ended up committing suicide. Instead of rejoicing, she does not recover. She regrets that the disappearance of her torturer prevents him from going to court. Yet she is not motivated by a desire for revenge, she just feels a sense of deep injustice. One day, let’s hope, she will forgive him. Then comes the most difficult thing: to forgive herself.
There is also the case of this man who suffered all his childhood from a total lack of tenderness. His mother, authoritarian and hard, only gave him caps. His father, weak and often absent, had almost no contact with his children. But it is the total lack of tenderness on the part of his mother who marks it again, half a century later. Yet he knew how to be tender and hug with his children. The tenderness that we have not received is counterbalanced by that which we manage to give.
There is a lot of suffering in this world, especially now. So I do not want to increase this suffering, but rather to divert it from its destructive work to put it at the service of internal progress. Amerindians practice the pain that cleans, through sweat lodges or sun dances, which are vision quests.
When the pain is fertile, it fades in the light of the result. This is so with the pain of childbirth. Our grandmothers called it pretty evil. As soon as it pass, we forget it. This does not prevent many women from claiming an epidural. Can we give birth as a warrior? Yes, definitely. Should we do it? It’s the choice of each. Some will pass their comfort or cozy before the experience that makes one grow.
I am a man, at least in this life. But the memory of my previous lives never leaves me very long. I lived in one of my lives the pains of a difficult childbirth. And I can still feel them in my loins and my sex. The woman I was using it to open a new life cycle. I know that this is possible, if the circumstances and your character allow it.
This text is for warriors. Nothing is ever won, neither the horror of the past, nor the discouragement, nor the bitter taste of defeat. No door remains closed forever. Knock, knock, knocking on the heaven’s door. It will be opened.
The path of the warrior is hard and difficult. Full of coastlines, obstacles, traps, dams. It is necessary to climb, to circumvent, to get up higher and higher. When the heart failed, we advance anyway. We do not stop before the stop. After the stop, we start again on the right foot.
A day is coming, a beautiful day when everything seems easy. No more obstacles, nothing that hinders walking. More effort to provide. Here comes the magic path. It seems to slip under your astonished feet, he carries you, he moves forward and you get shot. It’s no longer a path, it’s a treadmill. You had never seen these walls, these landscapes. Where did he get you? You do not recognize anything.
But before this beautiful day it was necessary to row, to struggle, to suffer and to doubt too often. You held it. You have overcome the pain. You braved hunger, pain, sorrow. Here is your reward. Now the path is unfolding and you are dreaming. You think you finally reach the goal of so much trouble, you rejoice, you love and thank heaven. Put your bag down and laugh. The sky is not for nothing. Or it was the sky that slowed you down before, when the worries led to your progress.
The tests have nothing that enchants you. You knew how to cross them though. We can overcome them by shouting his anger, we can also spend singing. Today it’s easy. Everything seems charming to you. You are no longer afraid to love, you can go ahead, run, do crazy, spit against the wind. Everything took on a different brilliance.
What has changed? Your heart is in the spring. Your spirit is sparkling. Your soul is fulfilled. You fly. Free finally of your chains, love is driving you. It guides you, it forces you to smile, you are fed. You learn, you say yes, you are grateful for the present you receive. The path of the past was your little tyrant. Out of your suffering, love has arrived. Let’s celebrate its rebirth. Is it enough to love? Yes. Say it, because you want it. Desire. You are alive.
Love, the beautiful love of dreams. To the burden that is taken away from you, the pain that runs away, the glasses that rise, the joy that follows, thank you. I say thank you. We can never say it enough. We do not know who to thank, love, joy? Life has no ear and yet it hears hearts that marvel. She blesses the pure, the brave. Be sure she hears you when you say thank you. Her too. This is how.
You can also thank your tyrant. It is to him that you owe your courage. To him the strength. Thank him for that, for the meaning of the effort, for the obstinacy, the solitary progress and the joy of arriving. All your friends are here, they are waiting for you. You are no longer alone in the world. Give your evils yesterday, thank you for your offering. Thank you for the journey. Thanks for coming. It’s here, sit down. Put your bag on the ground. The sorrow is far behind.
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