Read Online A Lotus Grows in the Mud by Goldie Hawn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Goldie Hawn
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survival, in the amygdala, a small area in the limbic center of the brain that becomes activeonly when people are emotionally aroused. It stems from the fight for survival; it keeps us from being annihilated. But fear can also override some of our other capabilities as humans, to live fully in a state of joy.
I once met a man who was a hundred and ten years old and very wise. “What is joy?” I asked him.
He smiled a toothless smile and replied simply, “It is the absence of fear.”
I thought, My God, what would my world look like if I had no fear? When you look at that, you think of all the things you are afraid of in your life, and you suddenly realize that you spend so much time defending against them that you have no time to open up to fearlessness, to experience the greater potential of our gift—the wholeness of being human.
When I think about the people who run our world, I cannot help but wonder how much their brains have evolved. Now that we no longer have to kill for food or have to fear being eaten by saber-toothed tigers, we are honor bound to use every aspect of our remarkable evolution. The new brain—the prefrontal cortex that scientists have only recently discovered—has the endless ability to experience a full emotional life, and it is the only brain in the animal kingdom that has the ability to witness itself.
Unless we use that ability to look at ourselves, to rise above our situation and examine it from way up, we are going to get into trouble. In order to know that violence begets violence, that hatred is grown in the petri dish of fear, we must understand the ravages of anger and fear. Fear-based actions never end up well.
People get angry because they feel out of control. They are lost, they feel powerless, and so they lash out. Paranoia and polarization set in. If we can eliminate the negative emotions attached to fear—not necessarily the fear itself—if we can cultivate compassion and understand the root of our fear, then the experience itself will not control us.
Looking for answers to my own fear, I turned to God to try to find a sense of place, peace of mind and the nurturing of an inner life. I had such a sense of longing for a connection to the vastness. I used to look atthe moon tangled in the trees outside my window and feel this incredible space and time in the universe.
Each night before I went to sleep, I read aloud the Twenty-third Psalm from a Bible an aunt gave me. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” These words gave me immense solace, to know that there was a continuation of life, that death was nothing to fear.
From the time of the Cold War, I actively sought a spiritual life. It was this that helped me modulate to the next level of my being. It was one of the greatest teachers I ever had. I developed an inner yearning and a deep need to be grounded in some sort of faith. That need has continued to shape my entire life.
postcard
M y eyes are too big, my nose is too flat, my ears stick out, my mouth is too big and my face is too small. The only thing I really like about myself is my hair. My body is as thin as a clarinet, and my ankles are so skinny that I wear two pairs of bobby socks because I don’t want anybody to see how thin they are.
“The trouble is,” I tell Nixi as I grimace into the bathroom mirror each night, “I just don’t look like the other girls.” Nixi licks my hand devotedly and thumps his tail on the floor to show me he doesn’t care.
I can’t say what exactly separates me from the rest of my classmates, but I just feel different—out of step somehow. I sometimes wish I could blend better with the other girls, who form tight cliques and pride themselves on how they look.
When I’m not practicing or rehearsing ballet, I go to the dances at the church every Friday night. Sneaking off to the bathroom, I stuff my double-A
I once met a man who was a hundred and ten years old and very wise. “What is joy?” I asked him.
He smiled a toothless smile and replied simply, “It is the absence of fear.”
I thought, My God, what would my world look like if I had no fear? When you look at that, you think of all the things you are afraid of in your life, and you suddenly realize that you spend so much time defending against them that you have no time to open up to fearlessness, to experience the greater potential of our gift—the wholeness of being human.
When I think about the people who run our world, I cannot help but wonder how much their brains have evolved. Now that we no longer have to kill for food or have to fear being eaten by saber-toothed tigers, we are honor bound to use every aspect of our remarkable evolution. The new brain—the prefrontal cortex that scientists have only recently discovered—has the endless ability to experience a full emotional life, and it is the only brain in the animal kingdom that has the ability to witness itself.
Unless we use that ability to look at ourselves, to rise above our situation and examine it from way up, we are going to get into trouble. In order to know that violence begets violence, that hatred is grown in the petri dish of fear, we must understand the ravages of anger and fear. Fear-based actions never end up well.
People get angry because they feel out of control. They are lost, they feel powerless, and so they lash out. Paranoia and polarization set in. If we can eliminate the negative emotions attached to fear—not necessarily the fear itself—if we can cultivate compassion and understand the root of our fear, then the experience itself will not control us.
Looking for answers to my own fear, I turned to God to try to find a sense of place, peace of mind and the nurturing of an inner life. I had such a sense of longing for a connection to the vastness. I used to look atthe moon tangled in the trees outside my window and feel this incredible space and time in the universe.
Each night before I went to sleep, I read aloud the Twenty-third Psalm from a Bible an aunt gave me. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” These words gave me immense solace, to know that there was a continuation of life, that death was nothing to fear.
From the time of the Cold War, I actively sought a spiritual life. It was this that helped me modulate to the next level of my being. It was one of the greatest teachers I ever had. I developed an inner yearning and a deep need to be grounded in some sort of faith. That need has continued to shape my entire life.
postcard
M y eyes are too big, my nose is too flat, my ears stick out, my mouth is too big and my face is too small. The only thing I really like about myself is my hair. My body is as thin as a clarinet, and my ankles are so skinny that I wear two pairs of bobby socks because I don’t want anybody to see how thin they are.
“The trouble is,” I tell Nixi as I grimace into the bathroom mirror each night, “I just don’t look like the other girls.” Nixi licks my hand devotedly and thumps his tail on the floor to show me he doesn’t care.
I can’t say what exactly separates me from the rest of my classmates, but I just feel different—out of step somehow. I sometimes wish I could blend better with the other girls, who form tight cliques and pride themselves on how they look.
When I’m not practicing or rehearsing ballet, I go to the dances at the church every Friday night. Sneaking off to the bathroom, I stuff my double-A
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