Two primary schools of thought are keeping my head on straight, and preventing me from spiraling into anxiety: 1. I don’t intend to be on the road forever, as I require consistent change in order to satisfy a soul-need, and 2. There is no failure when you do your absolute best.
If one sees oneself as Neo or Morpheus, one might think one can take a flying leap off of a tall building with impunity; you’ll just bounce back up onto the roof. But if we remember: dying in the Matrix means one dies in “real life.” Those that bend the rules still recognize that there are rules to begin with, and higher structures meant to preserve the experience in the Matrix, which is required to go and live beyond it. Neo and Morpheus do not see others within the Matrix as being too “asleep” to be a part of their mission, for those still sleeping are just as real in each layer of existence as they are.
I love to love, but I am also a warrior. In battle, the shogun must be ready to cleave a foe with a wicked blow at a moment’s notice. As living Source incarnate, we are called to compassion for each other and ourselves. I am living compassion, but I am also Mercy. Mercy is not always kind. It rarely ever is, as the subtle blade of righteous death when called upon gilded wings.
We each uniquely hold a key that allows access to our spirit, and when we connect with spirit, we are tapping into a realm of existence where there is no time, there is no doubt, only everything you could ever hope for. It’s not a place you go to on Earth (although some locations can amplify your experience), and it is not the person that you love so much that it hurts.
These days, after I began to learn that having a fulfilling life can look different than what we see all over Instagram, I started to open my eyes to how I can create my own brand and identity irrespective of what others expect.
“Thank you” is never enough. Neither is “I’m sorry,” or “You’re amazing” or “I love you.” But I will tell you anyway, until I am shorn of my body and soul, and even then ever after until even the etheric is in a form you no longer recognize.
There are no alarms sounding off courtesy of far-too-expensive iPhones. No official obligations until maybe 11 this morning at the earliest. I smile tiredly in my sleep, tucked deep into an old afghan that smells like memories that have yet to be formed. I can feel the cat purring and breathing warmth onto my hip; his favorite spot to snuggle up when I sleep on my side. An arm that feels like stone wrapped in smooth velvet grips gently around my waist from behind, keeping me from leaving my spot in bed too quickly. I hadn’t even realized I was starting to sit up. My smile widens.
Hippie magick is bound by the rising smoke of an old man. The empathetic approach of a child seeing another’s pain. A mother whose concern is greater for others than herself. This is the way of a people bound not to any book, but to all stories. We gather around the fires lit by ourContinue reading “Hippie Magick”
One day, a spec of light was formed. Cast out of the Heaven into the universe. Her name was Joy. Man loved her, desired her, wanted her every waking moment. She wanted to give herself unto them, because there was so much of her. However, Man turned her away. Desiring her, but looking the otherContinue reading “Joy ~ Terror ~ Peace”
They lied when they told me that I would die one day. I have died 1,948,349,234 times and each time I have been deceived at the start, that this one would be my last. After a certain amount of time, you quit counting. I guess I have yet to do that. When I think backContinue reading “They lied”