we suffer terribly in this individualistic society. it enforces the polarity of our relationships, within and without.
how can we ever truly connect with another when there’s always the need to protect or to keep a part of us, just for ourselves? when there are secrets, power plays, gamesmanship and manipulation, we do not trust ourselves, and thus will never trust another. not really.
(edit: i would argue this differs from a private zone, which we all need; one is fear-based, one is founded on love)
imagine treating yourself the way you treat others. imagine conversing in pleasantries and platitudes, talking about the weather or relying on single-word answers and avoidance, because your presence is elsewhere in worry, planning, protecting, deflecting or simply saving face. we all have our pride and our shame. so fucking what? we all have the same basic concerns. quit trying to be original in your pain.
the collective is elevated through your courage to be vulnerable and authentic. those who judge you for being you are irrelevant. they’re terrified of their reflections, too. love them anyway.
our identities are so very fragile, and by extension, our egos. who we are and what we want is a perpetual dance with transience and preference, navigated solely by our feelings, should we be so engaged. we seem to see this is a bad thing, when perhaps, this is the beauty of this here place; nothing is solid for long, and nothing has substance or meaning save that which we choose to give it.
no thing is mattered without your consent. no person shows up on the path without a prescription for more, for next, for a lesson, for growth, for love, and for understanding of self. reflection, reverberation.
curiosity, excitement, intrigue, fascination, openness, passion… these are the kindling for soul fire, and the molecular makeup of a story fully explored and embraced. they are ingredients for connection, healing and spritual communication. words will always fail, but, in time, maybe they will no longer be needed.
for now, be real.
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