Tending the Disconnection
“Who does that? I mean, who DOES that?”
That was what our breakfast buffet cook asked out loud at the hotel restaurant in Aurora, Colorado yesterday morning as CNN reported on the movie theater shooting that had taken place just hours before in his small town.
No one could answer our cook’s question, obviously. But in my head (maybe even out loud) I responded, “That’s a special kind of crazy.”
That’s a guy so disconnected you can’t even begin to understand it.
Today I read a few “good news” stories from that event, and in the process found myself directing strong judgment toward one of the survivors.
Specifically, for the young mother who accepted a marriage proposal from the boyfriend that abandoned her and their two children in the movie theater after gunshots erupted.
Not judging the shooter; or people who sold him guns, or lawmakers who made it legal to obtain such weapons. Not judging the boyfriend who left his family there to die, but judging the woman who accepted his marriage proposal later that same night.
Seriously?! THAT’S who you’re going to raise your kids with? The guy who leaves his kids when gunfire erupts? That’s another kind of nuts, in my book.
So I’ve got judgment.
Not judgment that this shouldn’t have happened, not judgment that the news shouldn’t be milking this for days, not judging people who read it, not judging people who condemn what’s-his-name the shooter … but judging the woman who is marrying the guy who ran out on her when it counted.
Yet I realize, while I’m inclined to call her crazy, really – it’s crazy for ME to embrace any thought that doesn’t feel good, knowing what I know about the power of thoughts.
So I listened to Abraham talk about how to stay in the vortex in the face of tragedy, and found this one on how murderers see their actions after they “croak”:
Once the murderer dies … “he takes Source perspective and feels no regret.”
No regret. ?!
Well that hardly seems right. Shouldn’t he have at least a moment of suffering, or a realization of his “wrongness”?
“And that bothers humans immensely, because they’re so hoping for some sort of punishment.”
Yep, pretty bothered with that.
“And in that judgment and punishment you are holding yourself apart from Source.”
So let me get this straight:
It’s completely possible that what’s-his-name (I refuse to look it up) shooter is feeling like a million bucks because he successfully deployed his crazy plan; and that he may not ever see his actions as wrong. Ever?!
And as I judge the whole thing, that makes me the disconnected one.
Right, because Source doesn’t judge.
So when I condemn, I’m not aligned with my higher self, Abraham says.
Well, if revenge is a vibrational improvement over fear and powerlessness, where does that leave me?
My answer: feel it out, and continue the upward cycle. “Decide you want to feel good,” Abraham says. Make that your priority.
So I let myself be indignant over idiot women who pick the wrong guys, which I seem to have some sort of charge on. (“You spot it, you got it,” anyone?)
And I remember that as we condemn what’s-his-name for being so disconnected, we ourselves also disconnect from Source.
Which inspires the invitation to consider: What’s the thought that feels better? Go with that one, don’t judge it, don’t feel the need for others to agree with you on it, and just rinse and repeat. Continually reaching for thoughts that feel better.
We’re all going to land in the same place eventually. (In blissful eternally loving source energy with what’s-his-name, apparently, after he’s put to death.)
“God’s love is really God’s love, and that which man has assigned as God’s vengeance is only man’s separation from that which is God’s love.” (Abraham)
I guess if I were able to totally live that concept it would make me God instead of human, so perhaps I can begin by not judging myself for not fully being there yet.