Réponse et partage de mon expérience du Pardon à l'Articles dans la Presse sur Le Pardon par Michele Ouimet

http://www.cyberpresse.ca/actualites/quebec-canada/justice-et-faits-divers/200906/02/01-862425-le-pardon.php Excellents articles sur le pardon. J’aime la façon dont vous décrivez tout les points de vue en nous laissant de l’espace pour ressentir notre propre vérité. J’étais curieuse de connaître l’expérience de ces parents qui ont pu pardonné une chose si monstrueuse bien que j’ai évité de lire tout autre article sur le meurtre agressif et horrifique de ces deux jeunes personnes. La capacité de violence et de haine chez les autres nous touche très personnellement, elle nous fait très peur. Cela viens nous chercher très précisément intérieurement. Dans mon experience le vrai pardon vient quand nous nous sommes pardonné de nos jugements de nos propres atrocité et ce que nous jugeons comme horrifique en nous. Je me dit que c’est ce que M. Dupont essayé de faire en étreignant le meurtrier et violeur de sa fille. Il est évidant pour moi que la famille Dupont, loin de ne pas souffrir ni d’être laissé indifférant par l’horreur qu’ils ont vécu, on survécu de la seule façon qu’ils en étaient capable. Yvan Marcil la bien dit : il est plus facile de croire en Dieu; tous ce que nous associons avec bonté, générosité, amour, lumière etc.… que de croire en l’humain et la réalité que nous sommes aussi haine, colère, rage, vengeance, violence, noirceur…. J’ai expérimenté moi aussi d’avoir utilisé le pardon pour survivre, bien que j’étais loin d’en être consciente dans le temps. Il y a 15 ans après avoir ressentie le plus de rage et de douleur dont j’étais capable dans le temps, je me suis accroché à l’idée de pardonner ma sœur, avec qui j’étais très proche, et mon mari, d’avoir eu une aventure amoureuse pendant 2 mois. J’ai quitté mon mari après avoir appris qu’il en avait eu une autre pendant beaucoup plus de temps mais j’ai gardé une relation très amicale et proche avec lui pour ma survie et sainteté d’esprit, bien que cela dépassé l’entendement de bien des personnes. J’étais complètement dépassé par le fait que je devais refaire ma vie, avoir tous misé sure cette relation et notre petite famille. À l’âge de 30 ans je devais recommencer à zéro avec une petite fille de 3 ans pour qui j’avais échoué de crée et maintenir une famille idéale intacte. Avec l’incitation des événements, j’ai aussi quitté mon business ou j’étais partenaire avec ma sœur. En plus de continuer plus profondément dans un cheminement spirituelle, je suis retourné aux études : une envie que j’avais depuis longtemps. Pendant 6 ans en travaillant à temps partiels j’ai œuvré pour atteindre un Bach en psychologie à Concordia et une maitrise en Counselling psychology à McGill. Je n’avais pas le temps ni l’énergie de ressentir autre chose que du pardon. La méditation, le yoga et mon cheminement spirituelle m’aidaient à contrôler mon intérieur, de trouver un espace calme et équilibré. Je suis d’accord avec M. Marcil : c’était « une manipulation de l’intérieur ». Malgré que cela m’a vraiment aidé et ma soutenu jusqu’au moment ou j’ai pu avoir plus de recul, d’espace et le courage d’aller plus profond dans ma douleur et le restant de ma rage. 13 ans plus tard sachant que ma fille était assez grande pour faire ses propres opinions, après que ma mère soit morte et que je n’avais plus besoin de garder bonne face pour la rendre heureuse, après que le père de ma fille se sente plus sécurisé dans une nouvelle relation et que je n’avais plus besoin de le soutenir émotionnelle, là je me suis donné le droit de m’occuper de moi. Aussi j’étais plus prête à me prendre en charge et de me faire face au lieu de me cacher dans l’image d’une mère Theresa qui est tout ce qui à de bon et généreux pour ne pas faire face à ma haine, et violence intérieur. Seulement 13 ans plus tard j’ai étais prête à ressentir la profondeur de ma haine, de ma rage envers mon ex qui ma presque immédiatement pointé envers ma haine et rage envers moi-même. La haine d’avoir échoué en tant que femme, que mère, fille et sœur. J’avais échoué grandement dans mes attentes idéalistes de me construire une vie pleine d’amour et de bien être. D’être entouré et de vivre que de belles choses. La réalité que je n’étais pas juste une bonne petite fille pleine d’amour m’horrifier tellement que je l’ait enfouie le plus profondément possible et je me suis très habilement caché derrière un persona de bonté, générosité et d’amour. Depuis je me donne de plus en plus le droit de ressentir mes émotions les moins acceptable ou confortable et le plus j’accepte mon humanité et celle des autres. A mon avis il est impossible d’atteindre un endroit de paix et de laisser aller complet envers les actes horrifique de notre humanité sans accepter complètement notre humanité . Je pense que c’est une acte impossible tant que nous vivons dans l’expérience du corps….et cela nous empêcherait de grandir, de vouloir nous réalisé..… Merci beaucoup pour votre article, il à déclenché en moi beaucoup de réflexions et de réalisation! Marie-Noëlle Gagnieux

The power of the unconscious

I had a big awareness while visiting my mother's tomb yesterday. I feel connected to my mother without going to the site where her urn is yet being there with the energy of people connecting to their loss and sadness helped me to go deeper within my own sorrow.

Being with adolescent girls expressing about their mothers the night before brought me back to the time of my life where my mother's opinion of me was crucial in guiding my life. This obvious to me now continues on well past the death of our mothers  as I was irrationally crying like a big baby on the ground in front of the mauseleum asking my mother for guidance! Actually I was asking her to help me have some awareness about the sorrow I was feeling and what it was related to.

I knew there was something more profound than the anger at her for hiding behind her husband's name and not celebrating all of who she was all of her life as an individual. What came to me was something not easy to digest, something I had been resisting to feel quite understandably. The message was coming in bits and pieces, I am no longer sure if I am getting the message from my mother or whether it is only and all about me and I am giving myself the message when I am ready with the help of another's energy. It started with my belief that I was continuing my mother's cancer, or that I believed I WAS her cancer. Unconsciously part of me has believed to be like her cancer which disrobed her gradually more and more of her dignity and of her masks. The truth of her vulnerability could no longer be kept hidden behind the illusions of the body, and its ability to protect by fooling others into believing one is infallible, invincible, and in control of one's life.I had begun my own journey before my mother's death, of facing myself and of uncovering the tricks and illusions I had been unconsciously using to hide my own vulnerability and fallibility. Many of the issues I was facing within me were related or connected to issues passed down not only genetically but also through the conditioning of those around me. My mother's illness and death accentuated the delineation of these issues in me.

As I keep unravelling the illusions and the lies about myself that are related to my mother, to the legacy of issues and emotional blockages, I inherited through her, about relationships, about being a woman, a mother, I have unconsciously felt as if I am continuously disrobing her of her dignity, of her masks, just like the cancer did. I have been carrying this ever since she got sick actually, since I had identified with the cancer having begun facing the lies and illusions long before she died.Identifying this helps to unblock a huge part of my energy, releasing and transforming the blockages within me into more open and flowing spaces!

Individuality and Independence vs. Conformity and Dependence

Listening to my daughter's friends sharing while sitting on the floor of the balcony of my father's now vacant apartment, I can't help but notice as I look in the eyes of each of the young woman sharing that I feel as though I am looking into my own eyes. My eyes of another time, another place yet so familiar in the moment, so close to me it is difficult to distinguish where one begins and where one ends. The tearing inside one's soul of young adulthood pulling in opposite directions: who is to take care of whom? Who is the adult and who knows better? Aren't parents supposed to be there for you and support you in your every struggle and fill your every need? Comfort you and guide you onto the path of least sorrow, of least pain? Yet as eyes open up to the fallible, imperfect human being showing through the cracks of the armour of the oh so strong and infallible parent whose pain suddenly seems so great, the weakness blatant, the powerlessness no longer able to stay quiet and unnoticed...
Faced with the mirror of oneself in a teenage body the illusion wanes quickly as the veil of illusions thins....who is strong? Who is weak? Who is more powerful, who has more wisdom? How can someone who seems so powerless over their own lives be in a position to tell another what is best? What is wise? The resistance to see the truth; blinding one's ability to see.

I always find discussions with young adult very stimulating, this is a time where the pulse of life is so vibrant, and where endless possibilities as well as questions emerge, and express themselves! One of my compatriots on the balcony floor is a vivacious and empowered Muslim young lady I have a lot of respect for. She is one that forges courageously beyond her own limits as well as that of her family and culture comfort zones, blazing new trails for herself and others who might follow. I was suddenly alerted to the fact that within her culture there aren't many possibilities or opening for a woman to create for herself as an individual away from family, as she is to stay safely within her family of origin until the time she becomes someone's wife. Forever and always under the protective wing of either her father and mother or a husband. She shares that within a marriage a woman can create her own independence within its limits. I know that to be true as her mother is an example of a Muslim woman whose strength of character and independence I have witnessed particularly. She chooses to wear the Jilaabah with pride of her individuality and of her culture although her husband does not care either way. She travels often for long periods of time on her own visiting her family and friends through out several Arab countries freely, independently while her husband stays home with the kids who are now young adults. As I quickly rummage through my thinking on this matter I realize that within my own culture even though called progressive, where women are apparently independent and free to choose for themselves their future and the conditions of their lives, the opening and encouraging of young women as individuals away from being someone's wife or mother is limited. Sure we can now choose careers including those that use to be only open to men, we can choose to have kids later, or none, and there is somewhat more choices of sexuality between heterosexual, lesbian, or bisexual. Yet even if we are able to open our minds to the reality of these life choices and experiences we surely are not that progressive a society to be without encountering a huge amount of prejudice when choosing anything away from the mold of wife and family. Perhaps it is the same for boys and men, with more pressure in the direction to choose a career or job which will make them into adequate providers for a wife and family. Even though they may be encouraged to play the field beforehand with bachelorhood smiled upon for them more than for girls, and even if they are allowed and expected to focus on their careers as individuals, it is in my experience nevertheless, always with an underhanded expectation that somewhere down the line they will be providing for a family.

All this stirring sends me in the morning to the mausoleum where my mother's urn sits next to her husband's. They sit in a niche behind a bronze plate engraved with his family name above and their surnames below, at the bottom an Irish clover and a ribbon of: forever together. My mother is of French origin, born in Algeria, my step father, Irish. They were together for a blissful 9 years before he died of a heart attack at the young age of 56. That is mere one eighth of my mother's 72 yrs of life. After a long cry sprawled out on the grass like a little girl, I look up at the plaque and wonder why my mother would choose to be remembered only as Jacqueline Fagan spouse of Cyril Fagan when she had lived and experienced such a whole, varied and full life as a woman on three different continents outside of that particular singular identity??

So we are all pulled, encouraged and conditioned towards an experience of family and unity yet somehow in our experience as human beings becoming part of a greater whole seems to be at the expense of one's individuality and uniqueness. It seems to be a question of either or, black or white; either free and independent; or trapped and dependent. A unique and distinct individual or an assimilated person who conforms to a group.

To be stronger within our own individuality and share that within a greater whole is in truth a richer experience for all to be had, where each one's uniqueness helps makes the other's stand out and shine more brightly. A more vibrant and whole experience of life where the possibilities grow exponentially compared to an experience where each person hides their uniqueness for fear of being ostracized, and banished. Individuality fades at the price of enmeshment in order to belong. Yet somehow we seem to create as human beings just that, as we carry with us the fear that our individual distinctiveness and uniqueness as a means of separation, and loneliness. In my experience we mostly allow ourselves those experiences of being all that we are where we are safely away from those we fear losing.

No matter how much I try to create space for my daughter to be an individual, unique and different from me, I am aware of our fears of losing each other when we allow our independence of each other to show. I often wonder if only away from one another can we truly and really be ourselves. That may be based on my own experience with my family growing up, where for a long time it seemed that only my friends understood the real me. Yet within those groups I later realized I had also conformed as a way to belong and for fear of rejection. The same with my sisters, co-workers, in laws, neighbours etc... I am aware of my tendency to fear reconnecting with old friends who knew me as someone who is very different than who I allow myself to be today; which is a much freer individual. Why do I perpetually want to keep secret the greatness and expansiveness of who I can be and am? The fear of living a lonely and secluded life, not having had the experience of being free to be more of my individual self, more whole within a greater whole of individuals and an experience of independence within relationships? I gather with the experience of being dependent that pushes us to conform we develop a real thirst for what we are missing: our individuality, independence and freedom be our truer selves, and when we find it we have the choice to share it with those people we once were dependent on ie: hiding it from, or not. 

Recession and Crisis Creating Abundance

Would you believe me if I said that going through my own recession has helped me to feel more abundance? When facing the financial and environmental crisis of our planet, I am comforted by my own experience of deep inner crisis. I believe this collective experience is good and necessary and one from which we will all benefit. After almost a year of caring for my mother through cancer until her death my perspective on life changed profoundly. It was only much later however that my awareness of this caught up with me . It was beyond mourning and the void I felt in me, after my mother’s passing, it was the reality and the illusions of life and death that awaken and help you confront your most existential fears. The transformation that ensued led me to a growing inner freedom and power. I was quickly freeing myself from many restrictions and inner rules that no longer applied. This new freedom allowed me to take some risks that were previously off limits, the kind that went against the good old judgment of reason and restraint. Despite the incessant questioning and self-doubt, I had a pervading feeling to trust myself in making decisions that would previously have seemed outrageous to me. Having an excellent credit record, I was offered a $20,000 credit line by my bank and I was able to lease a car for four years without any proof of sufficient income even though I was enjoying a two-year sabbatical without revenue. I saw this as a positive sign that I was heading in the right direction. I was feeling more creative and confident than ever and truly believed I was on the road to success. What I was not aware of, was that being more open with myself, I was freer to express the deeper hidden desires of wanting to be seen, recognized and valued. In our society, the vehicle for expressing those longings is by looking for proof of our worth through our performances and achievements and with money, possessions and status. After a year and a half of an idyllic and abundant existence between the city and Sutton, spending quality time with both my daughter and the man I love, I was about to discover another reality. In my mind there was no excuse for me not to create sufficient income. I am laden with an arsenal of high employability qualifications and have a history of being financially independent. My conditioning was clashing with my inner stirrings; a strong contradiction emerged. On the surface I felt my issues expressing the need for recognition and proof of my worth the only way I knew. Yet I was feeling my powerlessness and lack of impetus of going in that direction as something much stronger in me was pushing the exact opposite way . Despite my inner voice insistently repeating, “Trust yourself”, I felt as if I was heading towards a precipice - one I was resisting with all my might. What was to come was the furthest of anything I could have fathomed. I was facing all of my worst fears which began with the fear of losing my daughter; and not being able to provide for her. It resumed with the terror of my not being able to provide for my most basic of needs. It all happened very quickly, I declared bankruptcy, sold most of my possessions, and gave away the rest to empty the apartment I could no longer afford. My daughter moved in with her dad, step mother and new baby sister. I returned the car and got rid of my cell phone. I cut back most of my expenses by moving to Abercorn with my partner, Normand, who himself was struggling with accepting and enjoying his retirement . The truth is that I was ready and able to face my worst fears: to disassociate from the things I used as an illusion of strength and fulfilment. As tragic as it felt, for a short time it was the greatest of my successes - inner success. I understand now that the clear message to trust myself and the feeling that I was on the road to success came from a much deeper source than my conditioning. A part of me with tremendous trust in my strength and ability was cheering me on in a direction that appeared self-destructive. I have not only survived my worst fears of subsistence, I am freer to feel what lay beneath the illusions of my not being enough - a truer sense of who I am. I am not only freer to live the kind of life I have always longed for but more open to take in its bounty. I am living at a much gentler, loving pace, surrounded by open spaces. I have a deeper, truer relationship not only with my partner, my daughter and myself but also with life. It is evident now that I needed a great big push to help me to break free from the obstacles within myself. It makes me wonder if what we need the most is not what we fear the most.

La Semance de la Petite Fée

Il était une fois une petite fée aux ailles argentés qui vivait dans une belle forêt très riche en végétation ou le climat permettait de pousser les plus belles plantes. Cette fée vivait une réalité surréelle pleine de beauté, de lumière et de plénitude. Dans cette forêt enchanté vivait des milliers de fées et de créatures chacune unique dans son individualité. Quand la fée aux ailles argentés en avait envie elle n’avait qu’a penser à une compagne de la forêt et une de ces créatures lui apparaissait. Ensemble elles passaient du temps à découvrir une nouvelle expérience dans cette forêt infiniment profonde en possibilité. Chaque découverte l’aidait à ressentir et découvrir une nouvelle partie de son être dont elle n’était pas consciente qui faisait partie de qui elle était. Ça vie était un chemin remplie de défis et d’aventure qui la menait à un trésor dont elle n’avait aucune indice quelle direction elle allait prendre jusqu’au moment précis. Un beau jour elle rencontra sur son chemin une petite fille qui avait l’air d’être une fée sans aille; puisque pour elle tout ce qui existait dans cette forme avait des ailles. La petite fille avait l’air très triste- même il semblait que des gouttelettes de pluies lui tombaient des yeux. La fée lui demanda si elle voulait découvrir avec elle une chute d’eau dont elle avait entendue parler mais jamais vu. La petite fille la regarda toute surprise et lui dit « mais tu ne sais même pas qui je suis? Comment veux tu que je vienne avec toi quand nous nous ne connaissons pas? » La fée ne comprenait pas cette question étrange? « Que veux-tu dires? Je ne connais pas la plupart des fées dans cette forêt on se découvre ensemble; des fois il y a des fées que je ne revois plus jamais; mais le souvenir de notre expérience ensemble vibre en moi-exactement comme le moment ou je l’ai vécu et nous sommes à jamais lié. Est-ce important pour toi que nous nous avons déjà connu ou vue?? » « Mmmh… » La jeune fille réfléchi. « Non pas vraiment seulement d’où je viens il me semble que tout le monde est très préoccupé de connaître, la personne, le lieu et l’expérience du moment avant de l’expérimenter. Je crois que c’est une façon d’apaiser les peurs. Les peurs de ne pas être capable d’être avec une expérience inconnue; comme si il nous manquait des capacités- des facultés de composer avec tous ce que notre vie nous propose. Maintenant que j’y pense c’est comme si à tout instant on décide que nous ne sommes pas assez : pas assez fort; pas assez capable; pas assez puissant; pas dans notre pleine capacité d’être avec ce qui peut possiblement nous arriver. C’est comme si on se faisait tout petit; on se met à quatre pates, toujours entrain de regarder autour de nous en méfiance et en essayant de se cacher derrière toute semblance de chose plus forte; plus puissante; plus capable; de se qui nous croyons être. Pas une seconde est ce que nous nous pesons la question : Et si nous étions tous pareille? Tous aussi petit et aussi grand à l’intérieur. Aussi faible et aussi fort? Nous cacherons nous tous ainsi autant? » La petite fée émerveillé de découvrir un monde si différent du sien eu presque l’envie de le visiter! Elle voulait savoir comment cette expérience si l’opposé de la sienne pouvait donc être? Juste a ce moment la jeune fille se met à faire des bruits étranges et l’eau coula très fortement de ses yeux pendant qu’elle renifla et s’essuya les yeux comme si de rien n’était. « Que se passe-t-il? » Demanda la petite fée. « Je me libère de toute cette lourdeur d’existence- je pleure ma peine d’avoir oublié qui j’étais. Mon cœur se libère de la couche de roche incrusté de mon oublie- mon âme se libère avec joie de la noirceur d’où mon souvenir lointain de la vérité se cachait. Pour m’aider à découvrir qui je suis en l’oubliant; en le cachant librement de mon conscient je peux maintenant vivre de plein feu l’existence entière de qui je suis : avoir eu l’expérience de qui je n’étais pas. Tout d’un coup la jeune fille se mis en boule à terre dans la belle mousse verte onctueuse; elle se lamenta en se tordant à droite et a gauche- son corps s’agita comme une feuille dans le vent; il se contorsionnait comme si il expulsait et rejetait des éléments à une composition non compatible sortant de toutes ses pores et orifices de toutes les couleurs. Soudainement son petit corps devenu stable- elle prit un grand respire et puis plus rien. Pendant quelques secondes la fée aux yeux grand ouverts vola dessus la jeune fille faisant des cercle affolé et puis la jeune fille se mit à gémir les yeux toujours fermé. Elle se mit en une petite boule toute ronde pendant que quelque chose apparu dans ses omoplates. Comme deux tiges feuillu cela poussa très vite en ailles magnifiques de couleur bleu et vertes métalliques en dessins de dentelles les plus délicates. La jeune fille soupira et s’endormi dans un sommeil profond avec un grand sourire au lèvres. Pendant les 12 heures qui suivent la petite fée resta aux alentours chantant doucement si contente de sa nouvelle découverte qui avait réveillé en elle une nouvelle appréciation de son existence.

Article on Solicitude for Le Tour Newspaper

The reflection of who I am in the mirror of who you are.
Solicitude is not a word that is part of my vocabulary; I have never used it in speech nor in writing, nevertheless, it is something I have engaged in for most of my waking moments. I grew up believing that to worry about others and focus on them rather than myself was synonymous with being loving. As a young girl I soon learned that an important part of my role in the world was to comfort and soothe others pain as well as to decipher their every need so that I could fulfill them, or at least try to. In truth taking on a role of such importance was essential to the parts of me that felt insignificant. At thirty I decided to make a career of it, seeing I was so gifted at being present to other people’s pain. My passion was ignited by the experience of using my own pain as a source of empowerment to grow and expand as an individual and developed fervour for helping others to do the same. I returned to university and studied psychology. With a master’s degree in counselling psychology I finally had a license to practice solicitude for a living! My inner struggles began during my internship as I stayed awake at night reliving the sessions with the students I was counselling; feeling their pain. I was torn; I did not want to lose my compassion and yet felt I could not survive if I continued to be so open. It was important for me to feel compassion and struggled with the idea of becoming that detached, unemotional and objective, therapist I thought my McGill professors wanted me to be. The Latin words tabula rasa: an erased tablet or blank slate, echoed in my mind. To stay real and allow myself to feel the flow of emotions that touched me personally in the moment did not seem to be an option. I was afraid to be incompetent and unconsciously chose to put on the mask of an expert who had it all together. It was obvious no one would want a professional therapist falling apart during their sessions! I had to somehow disguise the weight of the pain and the pressure to save others that I was putting on myself. My life experience has showed me since, that living fully my own emotions; allowing them to be and express, makes me feel more solid and present in the moment than when I kept them “under control” and hidden. After having experienced the discomfort of being a professional and human being that felt false and inadequate at times; it became crucial for me to be real and to look after my own emotional well being above all else. I have learned to accept that at times I feel inadequate and need to protect myself by hiding behind a mask, and that when I feel insignificant, I need to hide behind an illusion of importance through the role I play for others. There are times when I am not in touch with my inner power: my ability to take care of and protect myself from within. In those moments I need to believe in the illusion of being separate from the world; wanting to live in a fish bowl for fear of being hurt and affected by things outside of me. As I continuously grow and experience my ability to take care of myself, my perspective shifts gradually and naturally towards seeing myself more at the center of my own universe, where I am in my power and the outside world is helping me rather than harming me. The outside world is continuously reflecting back some part of me that I can not see. I have learned that any preoccupation towards someone has everything to do with me. How and what I see in others is a projection of some part of me. I express my worry, concern and care as well as judgments of others as a reflection of the issues I am resolving within myself. Owning what I think and feel about anyone and everything as an expression of myself, helps me to accept the feelings I have. It is reassuring to know that when I am neither able nor ready to deal with certain issues directly; there is a natural mechanism that allows me to deal safely with these issues by projecting them away from me through an objective perspective. When I allow myself the spectrum of my emotions, including my hate and judgment; it is an act of self acceptance and self love that opens me up to a deeper self compassion and therefore truer compassion towards others. A far cry from the forced and shallow compassion I was trying to have as an untouched observer. It is interesting that solicitude has the same root as solicit; as if solicitude were to mean we solicit other’s state of being for our benefit. How great that we all benefit, since it is part of the perfection of being human!

The Misunderstood Ego

Seeking the deeper truth always has been a driving force in my life. When we look beyond the obvious, beneath the surface, there lies the key to compassion and a deeper consciousness of what is. The how and why of human behaviour and emotions are the least obvious to our understanding. The underlying motivators are unconscious issues and emotions. The operative word here is “unconscious”; which literally means we are not aware of what is at play in our acting out. Let us take the ego as an example as it is a popular subject of human behaviour. In my experience the ego is a very misunderstood vital part of our existence because its active role and reason for being is less than obvious and it is easily judged for its appearance. It is often seen as a shady and destructive side of our character as it often acts out in ways we judge as shameful and distasteful. What is not evident is that the ego is a warrior. It is instantly ready to go to war for our fears; it will fight tooth and nail to try to survive by protecting and hiding the weak and vulnerable in us. Like a protector and saviour it comes to our rescue putting forth an image of superiority, strength, intelligence, anything it can creatively gather to use as armour that will hopefully be impenetrable by the enemy: our judgment of what is weak. The ego is often described as non-loving; something we need to eradicate from our being and our actions. I don’t believe one can survive being human without the ego actively expressing itself. It is an instinctual natural reaction to bring the ego to the frontline for our inner battles. We hide behind it; we put it forth as an archetype of strength (usually what is regarded as masculine), when we feel unable to show ourselves as we are. It comes down to accepting the ways in which we survive. In my experience, paying close attention to the ego and how it expresses itself, giving it room and space to be; there lies a wealth of opportunity for self-awareness and self-healing. For instance being aware of when we are expressing the need to be right or better than others; acting self righteous; arrogant or acting/feeling superior in some way. Often we do not like who we are being in that moment yet there is such a strong impulse to react as we do. Compassion evolves from becoming aware of what lies beneath the facade of the active ego. What is revealed: are the vulnerable, fragile parts of us that feel weak and desperate not to be seen. It helps to understand that the external behaviour is the exact opposite of what we are feeling deep down and that we compensate by cleverly masking the truth of that feeling. When we feel weak in some way; we put out a mask of being strong, including using our physical strength. When we feel wrong; we need to express and act out how right we are; especially more right than whomever we feel wrong in comparison to. When we feel inferior; we protect ourselves by acting superior, our unconscious gathers information on how we can support the belief that we are superior in some way and we act it out. It is obvious when you think about it, yet while in reactive mode witnessing either our own ego or someone else’s acting out, it is far from evident, and we tend to stay stuck on the outer layer of truth. There is an infinite amount of ways that we mask our inner vulnerabilities and perceived deficiencies from the outside and through our actions. Controlling our environment and others for instance is the way we express feeling insecure and powerless over certain parts of our life. Outside control is a way to seek a release from the discomfort inside of not being in our own power. Observing oneself becoming controlling is a great indicator and an opportunity for self‑awareness. To question: what is it that I am feeling powerless about? Giving it attention and space by observing its expression, rather than trying to squelch and censor it; transforms how we feel and how we act out. Compassion and self-acceptance begins with the awareness and understanding of our own behaviours and their underlying emotions. All our fears and issues stem from real life experiences; usually from our youth, which is stored and imprinted in our energy and unconscious. Those fears will express with or without our awareness through our actions and behaviours. It is how we release and heal ourselves naturally.