My Brother’s Call is My Own, By Ludvig

I am sharing a room with 3 guys. I’ve never been very comfortable around “guys”, men, bodies with smaller breasts, more fur (generally) and something dangling between their legs. I haven’t been all that comfortable around women either, but that’s another story. Perhaps this thing with guys started when I was 4 years old and completely refused to go to kindergarten if I couldn’t wear my skirt and my long stockings (striped). Two older guys were giving me a hard time about it, but I didn’t care much back then. I was probably in my joy, building lego spaceships. Maybe later on I started to hold back more, shield myself off. I remember being very uncomfortable in the boys changing room in school. There was always such a hard, tough attitude going on. Later on I was exploring feminism, transgender philosophies and experimenting with different ways of dressing and acting. Playing around with the self-concept (well – back then I really thought it was me!).

I’ve had judgements going on about my fellow roommates since I got here. I felt clearly that I didn’t want to people-please or “act” in any way here, so when not feeling a resonance I’ve often kept to myself, waiting for the genuine expression to come through, the true joining (often while still having a heavy story going on in my mind about these seeming other people). A few days ago I felt the strong desire to have a meeting with my roommates together with the stewards here. In the meditation just before the meeting, my fear level was quite high. I felt like I just wanted to be done with it. Sometimes I feel that expressing is similar to throwing up: you feel like you are full of poison, and there is some deep resistance to letting it come out, even though you know you will feel relief afterwards. The pain will intensify momentarily, and then it will subside, but sometimes there is the feeling of wanting to put it off, just a little while longer.

I had heard this vicious voice for days, practicing over and over all that it was going to say during the meeting, and I had marveled at the circular madness of the ego thought patterns, from time to time remembering to ask myself questions like: “What is it that is fueling these thoughts?”, “What is underneath this strong investment in being right?”, “Am I willing to be wrong?”, etc. These questions would bring me into a space where deeper emotions began to surface, and the deep pain underneath the thoughts started to become apparent. I would eventually distract away from it. I noticed that going into the story actually seemed to lessen the pain temporarily. Like it was somehow dulled by the mind building structures of comparisons and arguments, desperately shielding itself in its imagined superiority and righteousness to split it off from the lesser mortals, who are simply not sincere or serious enough to be worthy of its acceptance (those would be my brothers who are one with me).

In the meeting with the stewards I closed my eyes and felt out where the biggest charges were, and then started relating my experience of the events that were most prominent and emotionally charged in “my” story. I felt some guilt passing through, because it felt like I was accusing my brothers. Part of me wanted to do that, but deeper down I felt that I was calling out for love and support, and that I truly want to join with them. It felt good to express, and it felt even better to sit silently afterwards, totally letting go of the situation and leaving it in the hands of the stewards, Kris and Val. My trust for them is so deep. This trust enabled me to let go of the outcome and let everything unfold by itself. All the others expressed and some gave their version of certain parts of the events I had spoken about. The Spirit guided everyone to reel all upsets back into their own mind. The conflict has to be seen where it is, and not where it seems to be in the projected world. As we walked out of the room, I felt like I had let go of a ton of bricks. I had the sense that, some time soon this is all gonna get so good! There is so much love, so long held back, almost like it can’t wait to rip through the veil. But I am told it is eternally gentle, so it waits patiently on a sincere welcome.

At night, as I was sitting outside enjoying the cool evening breeze, I saw it so clearly. They have always just been calling out for love. My brothers have believed in the tiny mad idea, just like me. How could I overlook my brothers fear, and forget that anything that comes from fear is a call for love? In every seeming situation where I perceived some kind of “wrongness” going on, it was always a call for love. And it was my own call! Gratitude is pouring through, for every single little thing that I needed to see, hear or experience to come to this moment of forgiveness. My brothers call is my own, and why would I deny them what I so desperately seek myself, when giving it to them is the only way I can have it?

You are all so worthy of the LOVE!