Who other than Kate Bush would write a compassionate and heartfelt song about the Yeti?
And, of course, the Yeti is me – as he is for each of us.
What are my stories about the Yeti?
The Yeti is mysterious. He is unknown.
He doesn’t exist.
He is alone. He is feared. He is endangered.
People fear him.
He is dangerous.
What happens when I turn this around to myself? Can I find clear, simple and genuine examples of how it’s true for me?
The Yeti is mysterious –> I am mysterious.
I am mysterious to myself. I am a mystery to myself. I an unknown to myself. (All my stories about myself are just that, stories.) Sometimes, I don’t tell things about me to others even if it would be natural to do so in the situation.
I don’t exist. The only place “I” exist to myself is within stories, and these stories are just thoughts and images – happening within and as awareness.
I am alone. I sometimes feel alone. Nobody else can really understand my experience. My path is only for me. I can share my life with others, but my experiences and path is only for me.
I am feared. A woman I walked by in downtown Salt Lake City at night seemed to fear me. If people believe certain stories about me, they may fear me. I fear myself when I believe I will make a mistake.
I am dangerous. When I believe I am dangerous, I appear that way to me. When I act from beliefs, I may be dangerous to myself and others. (I found some more specific examples.)