We feel the need to escape so often because we have been bombarded with pain. But the source of our pain is the source of our healing. We have risen and must heal from the deep pain of our separation from our source selves. We have been endlessly targeted by products targeting the very pain of the uncertainty we inherited when we entered our human experience, with messages from marketers focusing on specific “pain points” products and services promise to deliver us from, and thereby perpetuating that pain in a cycle. We have been repeatedly stabbed where it already hurt. Of course we have sought to escape the pain… Through social media, food, shopping, the easy highs we created to numb ourselves, but whose pathology is undeniable. Chasing the next fix, the next escape, makes us a society of zombies. But from the destruction of these illusions of external comfort that fail to trail inside for long, from our enlightenment to the suffering and its origin, healing can begin. Our pain can be exploited by others but it wasn’t created by them. Our pain is the pain of temporary separation from ourselves, one another, God. When we process this pain, instead of escaping it, feel it away from our addictions, we can find healing, a new way to exist, and a new togetherness—the infinity our soul craves while boundlessly existing in this fragile human envelope made of a spark of you. You are already home.
The last whispers of oxygen are retreating from the shores of my lungs, leaving only empty air. I have been burning for too long, running through the deadly flames of utter stagnation that murder the blue-green flares of my pretty dreams. I have Picked up sticky feet from melting ground where others would have willfully fallen. Still, I gasp for the un-promised certainty of release, ugly in my horror and dissected from values and morals. I have offered my empty hands of ready labor to hundreds, bowed for the chance to leaven ignoble pockets, left grasping at un-clenchable silence while I suffocate against a tirade of tightly wound saran wrap.
I have glimpsed a light destined to release the weary ends of every coiled nerve. It is the undisturbed rays of a never-setting sun on a shelterless beach. The boundless love of a powerful creator.
Barely filling heavy lungs, I lived clinging to lies of blind seers, steering me to forget the essence of completeness gracing my every particle, scar, flaw. My head sagged and my back twisted against merciless blows disguised in rainbow siren songs of slave masters yielding promises of conditional acceptance, crumbs of love in pursuit of un-traded value, leaving me bereft of self-love and usurped of money.
Leaving me defiled. Ugly. Used.
But I have risen in the darkest room, from a crevice illuminated by the light of no worldly star, reminded of an opened door that was once closed. I am standing for the first time.
There is sweetness in the moments of silence….riding on waves of air softly playing against the shelter of our lungs. Particles of oxygen breathed to life oceans away turn into fuel for our thoughts. A moment of anticipation before the formation of the next thought: a sliver of pure energy wrapped in a blanket of words that finds refuge against the warmth of a welcoming mind until it slowly crumbles, its essence releasing to embody an apparition in the movie-dream of this life. Every thought is magic.
Our perception is distorted by our limited awareness of time. What is slow is fast. Chosen reactions proliferate in the pipette of our lives. And what is random is a part of the evolution. Every single moment is meaningful, real.
You are integral to me, and I see you, I love you, for no reason other than in essence you are me and I am you. In form you have become and become what I am also becoming. It is here that all acts of destruction are acts of self destruction that belong to us. All spilled blood from our veins, all lesions openings that threaten infection for our selves. All thoughts our own. Our separations dissolve with sight from our cleared vision.
I love you when you are an idea and in form I forget. This toxicity and evil is the dance of millennia that afflicts all of us when it befalls any of us, whether our subjective consciousness is a witness or not. When any being hurts, we hurt; when they laugh, we laugh. We are our beyondness; we are god.
I love you.