Dear Reader,

Welcome to 2024!

I hope the new year finds you well, rested, and able to ease into a joyful routine.

I've been putting some thought into this newsletter and decided I wanted to offer a story. Our brains are hard-wried for story, it helps the False Self drop its guard, and provides inventive new ways to approach pattern work. Whether creating from our hearts or using everything around us to inform our life cultivation, layered meaning in stories can help us feel into what our True Selves would like us to become aware of. It can also help pattern work be playful and lighter.

Patterns at the Podium was inspired by Norberto using that phrase and my quiet inner response, "That sounds like a poem." It turned out to be a much longer investigative play for me and we'll explore some of its concepts over the next few weeks in Wisdom for an Awakening World.

We'll also explore a variety of ways to use creative writing with Tong Yuan for exploring patterns of the heart and consciousness in the upcoming Qi Writers session beginning January 23rd.

After you read Patterns at the Podium below, you may wish to note what areas stand out for you. Are these areas to explore further? Did you False Self react? Your True Self respond? What does it bring up internally, if anything?

With love, gratitude, and bright Qi,
Stephanie​
​https://www.stephanierossauthor.com/​

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Patterns at the Podium

~ by Stephanie Ross

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Lights dim, hushed audience awaits. A deep voice over the PA reminds them to turn off their phones, remove distractions. They wiggle in their seats vying for elbow space. A cough in the back, something falls to the floor. Finally, attention turns to center stage.

Prized speakers emerge from the wing. The first stomps towards the spotlight. Chest slightly puffed, dress shoes and jeans – a cape around his cardigan covered shoulders, mismatched gloves, baker’s hat and ‘Best Dad’ badge on his heart. Prepared for multiple roles, Mis-identification confidently takes his place at the podium, smiles in greeting, opens his mouth and freezes.

A swish of the curtains gives away the arrival of the next speaker as she glides effortlessly and silently across the stage. Small and stern she takes her place two steps in front of Mis-identification. Her shadow obscuring his face, Mis-identification steps closer to the mic, then retreats. Shoulders round down before straightening to full height – too late, we’ve witnessed it. Avoiding and Hiding has made her presence known. This trickster seeks the podium only when it suits her agenda in covering up characters elsewhere.

A crash from the back of the room turns heads. Lights flicker off. A child screams. Muffled voices gasp. A dark cloak flies over the crowd creating shivers as it passes each cowering body. Cackling its way to center stage, hooded face remains in blackness as the light haltingly returns. Fear has arrived.

With false bravado, the hecklers begin their repertoire. Abandonment and Not Wanted squawk their practiced lines.

Arrogance stands up and shouts, “I have better things to do! Begin already!”

Fear’s lip curls up at the left corner. Confusion smiles broadly. He likes this game and paid extra for his front row seat.

Backstage pass in my pocket, I watch as the Patterns at the podium continue their show. Dawning horror drowns my initial pleasure with this privileged position as I see each face. Row after row of Patterns here every night paying homage to their leaders at the podium. Co-conspirators in colourful chaos sparking cacophony over silence, mayhem over stillness, Vaudeville over peace.

This new vantage, entrusted by the director, allows me to see this play differently tonight. I see the tracks where the curtains hang, the glider to pull them aside thus enabling my walk to the podium – distanced from the all engrossed audience too dim to realize they too are cast in this circular acting crowd contained in false walls of a fake auditorium.

Between me and them lies the heaviness of the curtain. I am exhausted from decades of distraction, seeing only snippets through the crack between panels, unable to move its weight aside. Giving Up wields its heft upon my shoulders while Useless and Weak holds my ankles. But I see them now. Their miniature caricatures of falseness no longer invisible weights in my life. Their custom tailored costumes apparent even in the shadow of Fear.

With practised effort, I relax and look in another direction. To the right of it all I see something one can only see from this particular spot backstage next to the director’s chair – the steady glow of the exit sign. It radiates brightly and points to an unknown destination. Unknown but definitively beyond this everyday spuddling in a play that is no longer mine. Beyond these actors so desperate to maintain their well-rehearsed roles. Beyond pretense of worn out Patterns who’ve lost imagination and insight as they play a sold out show night after night to the cast of characters who return ignorant to the fact that they too create this play.

My eyes adjust now to the dim. Below the exit sign, the outline of a door forms in faint light. It hints of life beyond these walls. I begin to see the objects strewn along the path before the door. Fire hazards be damned, that inspector quit long ago leaving a disarray of debris to be dealt with by someone else.

But as I focus on the door, the path through the refuse of props from previous performances emerges. I see the bin welcoming my well-worn script. I envision my hand on the handle that will release me into daybreak where I’d be succumbed and supplicant to only that which is true.

Painting poetic images of expansion beyond these patterned walls, I look inward for strength and clarity. I feel Fear’s bony hands squeeze my shoulders and creep into my heart. Avoiding and Hiding seeps inside and envelopes my lungs, my cells, my inner vision. Mis-identification moves around in circles calling loudly. Confusion vies for my attention.

I ignore them all.

I listen more deeply. I feel more intently. I extract Fear from my core and place him on the floor next to me. He never likes to be far away but for the moment he’s agreeable to sitting off to the side.

With the caucus of characters calming, I continue and focus on the innermost part of my heart. Giving Up seems bewildered but stays hushed. I draw upon memories of my cells in fetal position. I move beyond Avoiding and Hiding and feel the warmth, joy, and unconditionality of love within.

Bright light cascades over Confusion. Useless and Weak whimpers and sputters out. Abandonment sits on Arrogance and Not Wanted goes for a walk.

Mis-identification remains with both hands on the mic. He’s brought the entire podium inside.

I waver and wobble momentarily, unsteady at this turn of events. Warmed within but unsure of this new landscape. If I am not these characters, not the roles, not the scripts – – – then who am I and where do I belong?

Mis-identification stands tall, assured of his place. Confusion returns to his side.

I release the tenseness, move further into my heart and allow Trust a place on the inner stage. Trust holds hands with Openness and brings her into the spotlight. Openness brings Love and Love embraces Gratitude. Gongjing encircles them all.

Then, to my great surprise, Gongjing calls upon Acceptance, Peace, and Compassion to gently comfort Abandonment, Not Wanted, Useless and Weak. Arrogance lies down and Confusion goes to sleep. Avoiding and Hiding joins Giving Up and they rest. As Fear looks upon the scene, his shadow dissolves in Love’s bright light.

Mis-identification remains and faces down Gongjing.

Gongjing gently expands into Totality. As Totality manifests, Identification loses its dress-up partner “Mis” and stands naked in the rising of silence, stillness, and peace – no scripts, no walls, no play.

Performers, audience, Self as one.

Unseen and ever-present, True Self Identification forms a new pattern in the state of Gongjing – simple, true, and wise.

​Wisdom for an Awakening World continues into 2024. This is a private online community where you may connect and share based on the principles of Ren Xue and Yuan Qigong - a comprehensive life cultivation system based on totality and designed to enhance health, happiness, and wellbeing on the path to realization and wisdom. It's also a place for wisdom inspired art, poetry, and other musings.

I host live mini classes Mondays at noon Pacific. The recordings are left available in the group. You can scroll around and find previous classes as well.

For the next few weeks we'll be exploring "Patterns at the Podium."

What are your main players?

How can we work on patterns without spiralling into negativity?

How can creativity help?

Please join in advance so I'm able to "admit" you in time if you aren't already a member in the group.

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