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Into the Divide, Wretched Mortal

“Well you see, some people don’t really feel they exist, until they’re sitting on the point of a thorn … reality is a measure of pain.” ~ Alan Watts

When we look at the various stories that play out in our days, some beginning even as we open our eyes in the morning, we may not ever become entirely aware of the unconscious means with which we keep ourselves down, subservient, empty, and angry.

From our earliest days, we’re educated largely about the struggle of life; the pain, the competition, the battle, the dues that must be pained in order to succeed, achieve, be victorious, and to triumph over our would-be brothers and sisters.

Such arrogant, ignorant, narrow and wilful blindness serves the fearmongers and machines, not the heart; not the sapient humanity we generally profess to be seeking. Yet, here we are, believing more readily in the suffering that is life, than the knowledge of the absolute reality of things; we are creators; we are free.

Pure fantasy, yet it keeps us rapt. Generation after generation, we carry forward the burdens of an unawakened, subdued consciousness, and defend it no end!

It’s this, or that, or what the hell am I? No, no… Pain. I understand that. Given me more so I can really feel something and know I am alive… It is curious.

Who will you blame when you recognize it’s all you? Who will you shame when you see yourself in their eyes? What is guilt once you embrace forgiveness?

The more vehemently we maintain the split, the divide, the more we keep ourselves apart from our center. Therein lies the unspeakable magic, and therein the lies cannot even be voiced.

You are invited and allowed to be whole, complete, empowered, balanced and happy. This is the natural way, by and through the source of the untethered moment — even if it can at times be and feel quite transient.

Look again.

Solvitur ambulando