Reflections

“Blessing or Curse…?”

I have a vivid imagination.  I always have.  Sometimes it is a blessing in my life.  It aids me in all things creative, including my writing.  It enables me to construct whole worlds where I can spend my time; worlds so real to me that their lessons and experiences become part of my daily growth; worlds so real to me, they are often indistinguishable from the one my body inhabits…

Which is where the curse part begins.  Because sometimes, I cannot tell the difference between them.  Sometimes my imagination conjures images and lessons that begin (and belong) “elsewhere,” but they are so vibrantly alive that they begin to take root here, in mundania, in my daily life.  But my daily self is not so well equipped to deal with them, as is my visionary self.  So trouble often follows…

Sometimes I succeed in constructing a fantasy so real to me that I begin to see signs of its manifestation in the “real” world.  But luckily (maybe) I recognize it early enough to deflect it slightly, so that it manifests completely, but for someone else…  The earlier I notice, the better able I am to cast it off, the more likely it will touch someone unknown to me.  But it often returns to me in story form, told by someone else, every detail complete and recognizable.  And sometimes, I barely catch it at all, and must watch it unfold for someone close to me.  And sometimes that is hard to do…

Not because I wish harm on someone else, either, as you might assume from what I’m writing.  It’s not that at all.  My clearest, strongest fantasies are mostly what others fantasize about – comfort, security, love, recognition, success, etc…  And yet they still bring harm to those who “benefit” from them…

I don’t know if I am actually creating these scenarios, or if I merely sense them developing, and transcribe those sensations into a story line that flows and follows.  I don’t know if the impulses that birth these stories are mine or someone else’s.  I don’t know if I am truly casting them off to taint an Other’s journey, or if I merely release them in time to witness to whom they really belong.  And I don’t know if the “consequences” of such success stories are inherent in the stories themselves, or a reflection of my unwillingness to claim them…

What I do know, is that I have recently crossed paths with Others who are “living the Dream” I wanted for myself.  Different versions for different folks, but the details of each are telling.  And yet…

And yet, not one of them seems truly happy or content…

Was I wrong about the things I value?  Are they not the kinds of things that could bring happiness and contentment to me?  Or are they not working out because of some other, unforeseen, reason?

Is it prophecy or manipulation I’m experiencing now?  It’s hard to tell with all that has been happening.  Now that we’ve begun to see the levers and gears that operate behind the curtain of what we call reality.  Now that Time itself has become quite malleable…

What I also know is that this process, which used to work so well for me, no longer serves me, and I have yet to find a replacement.  I used to seek refuge in my fantasies, when the mundane world became too much.  I used to try out different possibilities there, before acting them out myself.  But now…

But now…  I’m never sure which thoughts will play out in the world around me.  Now, when I seek these other realms to explore what options I might have, I find my steps faltering, just as I cross that line…  Now I practice a rigid, impulsive self-control that stops such thoughts before they fully form.  Just in case, you know…

And it feels silly, really, to worry about such things.  I mean, who does that, anyway?  Why concern my self with what has not yet happened, when so much truly is happening now?  And why care if it manifests, especially if it’s happening to someone else?  Especially if it’s a “good” dream I’m making now?

I cannot be responsible for how an’Other lives.  I cannot be responsible for how they use these gifts.  I am not raining curses down upon them, so I have nothing to feel guilty about; all that I have wished for me, and (maybe) cast upon them, is for success, prosperity, comfort, and hope…

And yet the smell of burning flesh still haunts me, and follows me around…

Everywhere.  Every time.  Every day.  My senses reel under its omnipresence.  A memory, or prescience?  Damning either way.  And I am left outside my comfort zone, wondering yet again…

A blessing or a curse…?

 

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Reflections, Visions

Detachment…?

The clock on the wall keeps ticking, but the hands no longer move…

Because Time no longer motivates me.

Voices argue down the street, louder and louder, but the words no longer mean…

Because language never truly captured or communicated what was real.

Sadness, sorrow, grief wash over me, but tears no longer fall…

Because acceptance of what is, is, and my heart does not resist.

Peace wraps itself around me, as my eyes begin to lose their focus…

Because clarity comes to the Observer, relieved of earthly pleasures.

And I see…

That I am not alone, nor disconnected here from Others; rather we are joined in spirit, thought, and understanding.  Holding “hands” as all we’ve known drops out beneath us.  Free floating in a place without gravity to hold us, without severity to sink us.  Gently holding on to what is real for each of us… in a space with no time, no boundaries, no real limitations.  Just us.  And what each has chosen to live with…

I will not judge you on your choices, for I have made my own.  And each will be responsible for whatever seeds we’ve sown.  There is no “right” or “wrong” here, and “fairness” does not exist.  A redefinition is occurring of what we once called Justice.

The truth, as I see it (little “t” intended), is that choices surround us All. Depending on your perspective, belief and expectation, you alone can choose what path calls loudest to you…

Some may face a fork ahead, choosing left or right; envisioning a world where all is black or white…

Some may face a crossroads, where many paths may merge; joining forces, they move on to where their spirits urge…

Some may find themselves at the center of a wheel; all paths entering, even circling, but never truly leaving…

Whatever path awaits you, friends, I trust you will choose well.  At least you will decide your fate, as only you can for yourself.  And if you feel helpless, drowning in the chaos, chained to time and space…?  Try letting go completely, before it drags you down…

Detachment…?  Or apathy?

Surrender…? Or acceptance?

Cowardice…?  Or conscience?

The choice is always yours…

 

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Dreams, Reflections, Visions

“If you want to lead…”

Interesting dreams and experiences this week, summed up by my dreams last night.  I don’t remember details so much, but the message was clear…

“If you want to lead… lead.

If you want to teach… teach.

If you want to heal… heal.

If you want to speak… speak.”

***

For months now, the messages I’ve gotten have been consistently about stepping back and allowing Others the space they need to decide their own course of development.  I’ve actually become quite proficient at minding my own business.  Not perfect, by any means, as there are always times and situations that create a compelling urge to react, but much better than I previously did.

And now that energy has shifted.  Now, I’m told, we may begin act-ing again, though perhaps not in the traditional sense.  For example, if we envisioned our selves as leaders in this “new” world we wish to co-create, we will not achieve that end by handing down orders or controlling others, as leaders did in the old world; rather, we shall lead by example only.  Get your hands dirty, or get out of the garden!

Likewise, if we fancied our selves as teachers, then we must live our truths rather than preach them.  Words mean nothing today without action.

If we imagined our selves as healers, then the work must begin within.  It is not enough to use words like “should” and “ought to” to describe the path to wholeness.  We must become whole ourselves, and guide others by those actions…

And if we have something to say, we must take responsibility for both the words and the tone of our messages.  Communication is a two-way street, and while we cannot take responsibility for how another interprets our words, we must endeavor at all times to say what we mean, and mean what we say.  Freedom of speech is not a free-for-all arena anymore, by which anyone can justify and legitimize whatever stray thoughts may leak out; consequences will occur…

That being said, I feel lighter and more energized than I have in months.  Obviously, these have always been goals, but now they are imperatives.  And with that comfort of certainty, that awareness that rightful action can once again lead to just outcomes, I feel relief as well as a tightening of the reins of self-discipline.

We are, as always, who we choose to be, and we are free now to reclaim the power of becoming who we’ve always wanted to be.  Be brave.  Be wise.  Be responsible, my friends.  And be free!

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

“Networking…”

This is offered unedited, just as it came to me today.  Thought I should clarify that for some reason… lol!

 

There is a network beneath the ground

Tangled, tight and strong

Where messages travel faster than light

From anywhere to everywhere

In the awareness of a thought.

There is a global awakening happening

Though it may not be with us…

Silly humans, trussed up and selfish

Convinced we are the better Beings.

But beneath the ground there is no light

To compare our color, size or speed

There is only our strength

And willingness to embrace

All other living beings…

So if you find yourself awakening

In a world that doesn’t feel right

Look down, not up, for what you seek,

And embrace your true community.

For our answers are no longer above us

Shining in the Light

But hidden below, in warm, friendly shadow

Where individuals strengthen the whole.

And I am not just a human today

Frail, futile and faulty…

Today I embrace my deeper connections

And name myself

A Tree!

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Reflections

“I woke today…”

… to pale sunlight filtering into my room.  It was an unexpectedly joyous moment, as it’s been months since I’ve been greeted by natural light upon wakening on a work day…

I watched the sun lift Himself over the horizon while I waited for my first cup of coffee to brew.  My tears flowed easily and happily as I bore witness to the Light’s triumph over Darkness once more…

And it didn’t matter in the least that it was temporary; that Night would come again.  Nor did it feel at all ordinary, as such a common reoccurance can be.  It was a Moment, significant and meaningful, complete.  And I felt Whole for the first time in weeks…

I remember being “told” some weeks back that February 20th was special.  It simply came to me, a date, with absolutely no explanation.  But it repeated itself in my mind, gaining weight with every iteration.  And it stuck with me.  So much so, that I felt compelled to share that date with a friend last night, one I finally reconnected with after many failed attempts.

And here I am, enjoying sunshine with my coffee on this glorious early Spring day.  Sensing a cycle has concluded.  Feeling free and happy at last…

I woke this morning…

… and felt the nightmare slip away, without any lingering pieces to haunt me through the day.  And I was Grateful, deeply, sincerely grateful!

For this one day, at least, I need not fear the content of my own thoughts, for there are no traps waiting for me, no horror waiting to be triggered by a passing comment or deed, no images of suffering filling the space behind my closed eyes…

Which is not to suggest the horror itself has ended in the world; only that (for some unknown reason) I have been granted a brief reprieve from reliving it all today.  And that is a Blessing I will humbly and thankfully receive…

I woke today…

… and Life was good again.

I woke today…

… to pale sunlight filtering into my room.  And it grew brighter and stronger with every breath I took.

Yes…

I woke today…

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

“Static…”

I woke from a dream the other day…  seeing.  And what I “envisioned” was this…

I saw a field of static…

white noise…  I saw.

And it was white, kinda, or maybe a light dirty grey…

filled with billions of black dots…

all moving…

simultaneously.

Together they formed lines and shapes,

flashing in and out of sight,

all shifting so quickly,

they could only be identified by hindsight.

As I stared at this wall of blankness

that wasn’t actually blank at all,

I knew Others were watching, too,

and that the static had become the rule.

We were staring with intention,

intentionally,

until what we saw

became reality.

Gradually some began to speak,

shouting out the things they’d see,

while others spoke to validate…

or contradict…

their views.

Until, finally, baffled and confused,

it occurred to me

that all of it was true…

That this static was nothing more than pure potential…

and nothing less than pure creativity…

And we, as observers with the courage to speak,

could so influence what others might see.

And the only thing I could think of to say was…

“Please create responsibly.”

But, really now…

What does that actually mean?

And then the Silence came for me once more,

and there was Nothing…

but static on a wall…

 

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

“The Pendulum…”

I had a vision this morning, during meditation.  It was quite disturbing to me…

In that vision, I was surrounded by standing people, all staring at me expectantly.  They were angry, defiant, defensive, with their arms crossed tightly in front of them.  I recognized some as prominent people from both sides of the political divide.  They appeared to be accusing me of something.  I heard myself telling them that nothing had actually changed…

As their demeanor grew more threatening, I found myself back-pedalling, seeking a safe distance from those in front of me.  Which is how I noticed the crowd was growing, including many “ordinary” faces among them now.  Before my very eyes the crowd became an angry mob, incapable of reasoning.  And all I could find to say to them, as my own frustration began being tainted by their fury, was…

“What is it you want from me?!   Some things just never change!”

***     ***

The pendulum swings back and forth

marking time…

making history…

And strapped beneath its swinging blade

we cannot escape its inevitability.

Swaying right or swaying left

we are divided either way.

Perhaps there is no reality

that includes an actual change…?

 

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