I hear it, or so I think I do. I stop and remain stationary for a short time, pondering, questioning, debating, analysing. I shrug it off and continue. If someone had told me, I would not have listened. If someone had shown me, I would have granted no credibility. I would have scoffed. I would have laughed. Much to my detriment, I knew better than you. I knew better than God. I---WAS---GOD.
Enlightenment is exquisitely divine and a gift that is not to be discarded. When divinity intervenes, it is best that one accepts, surrenders and follows. There was once more darkness than I could bear. More pain that I could manage with a mere salve. More loneliness than I could remedy with companionship. Strong mind and foolhardy ego could not sustain existence any longer. The mind becomes fragmented, distorted, deceptive and fantastic in its grandiose permutations of reality. The voice---it screams. It plots. It critiques. It critiCIZES. Amidst the commotion, the tiny whisper cannot be heard. In this whisper, is the answer. In the whisper, is peace. Serenity. Clarity.
Padlocked, sealed and contained in an airtight container, the infinite voice of reason without sanity, rationality and purpose is dampened. In the darkness, there is a faint whisper; it is faint and foreign, yet mellifluous and familiar. Quiet invokes restlessness. Peace incites resistance to what simply 'is.' What we fight for so long is a cunning opponent--agile, expedient, formidable. Once enlightened we feel foolish. When the universe finally flips the switch, we stand their beaten, bruised and exhausted. Amazed, we look around to find no one crouched and ready to scuffle. Our worse and only opponent was always our own self.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Fixing What Is Not Broken
You are whole, though your head and your heart are in fragments. You camouflage, though you feel alien and conspicuous. You have fear when the world is unshaken and uneasiness when sailing is smooth and fortune is abundant. What rewards you receive must not be deserved for without struggle, failure and trepidation the game of life is being cheated; you have gone too far, taken too much and exceeded your limitations concerning wealth and prosperity.
When did everyday existence become so cumbersome? I have a name, a physical body and a position in the universe yet I know not who I am; I am without identity. Fully, I understand my capabilities, my gifts and individual qualities; although I know, in the cerebral sense, that I possess the essence of an angel, a legendary spirit and a soul of unblemished antiquity, I watch the shell of my tangible self as an outsider, an intruder, an interloper; in truth, what is known is not believed. Concerning faith, never do I question the rising of the sun, the beating of my heart or pull of my feet to this earth; my faith, my belief reaches far and wide---the only thing it cannot touch is me. I am deserving of doubt, speculation and ridicule for he who is capable of and accountable for any degree of failure is me. I am fallible. I am minuscule. I am weak.
A peculiar existence I lead. Repeatedly I ran from all that tormented me; a novel venue would provide temporary solace, but it seems that the devil chased after me. A fraud, a wolf in sheep's clothes I wandered as a nomad seeking refuge and finding resistance. If I escaped the prison of my childhood with the disguise of a pleasant exterior, stoic disposition and stifling wit and intellect, then how do they know? They know. I am a fake and they see right through me. Those who seek my company do so out of pity and/or gain. After all, love comes with a price and the reserve is set by the one entering the barter. The world appears small, the confines are hostile; where is the air. New scenery brings new promise, yet wherever I travel, there they are. Wherever I go, there I am.
You believe you are broken, yet you are not. You feel alone, yet you are enveloped in warmth, love and pure white light. Your thoughts tell you that you do not deserve happiness---they lie. I see you becoming that which you were incarnated to be. We ran and it found us. 'It' found us because 'it' IS us, inside of us, in our minds. Our beautiful souls chose this life to heal old wounds, balance our karmic debts and follow the path to the light. I am always here for you and always will be, in this life and the next. We do not have to run anymore for everything is perfect AS-IT-IS, we merely have to have faith. Love no longer comes with a price, least of all the love of a sister. No one must fix you, for you are not broken; you are no fallen angel. You are an angel and you always have been. Now you shall fly...
To my sister
When did everyday existence become so cumbersome? I have a name, a physical body and a position in the universe yet I know not who I am; I am without identity. Fully, I understand my capabilities, my gifts and individual qualities; although I know, in the cerebral sense, that I possess the essence of an angel, a legendary spirit and a soul of unblemished antiquity, I watch the shell of my tangible self as an outsider, an intruder, an interloper; in truth, what is known is not believed. Concerning faith, never do I question the rising of the sun, the beating of my heart or pull of my feet to this earth; my faith, my belief reaches far and wide---the only thing it cannot touch is me. I am deserving of doubt, speculation and ridicule for he who is capable of and accountable for any degree of failure is me. I am fallible. I am minuscule. I am weak.
A peculiar existence I lead. Repeatedly I ran from all that tormented me; a novel venue would provide temporary solace, but it seems that the devil chased after me. A fraud, a wolf in sheep's clothes I wandered as a nomad seeking refuge and finding resistance. If I escaped the prison of my childhood with the disguise of a pleasant exterior, stoic disposition and stifling wit and intellect, then how do they know? They know. I am a fake and they see right through me. Those who seek my company do so out of pity and/or gain. After all, love comes with a price and the reserve is set by the one entering the barter. The world appears small, the confines are hostile; where is the air. New scenery brings new promise, yet wherever I travel, there they are. Wherever I go, there I am.
You believe you are broken, yet you are not. You feel alone, yet you are enveloped in warmth, love and pure white light. Your thoughts tell you that you do not deserve happiness---they lie. I see you becoming that which you were incarnated to be. We ran and it found us. 'It' found us because 'it' IS us, inside of us, in our minds. Our beautiful souls chose this life to heal old wounds, balance our karmic debts and follow the path to the light. I am always here for you and always will be, in this life and the next. We do not have to run anymore for everything is perfect AS-IT-IS, we merely have to have faith. Love no longer comes with a price, least of all the love of a sister. No one must fix you, for you are not broken; you are no fallen angel. You are an angel and you always have been. Now you shall fly...
To my sister
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