This past year I feel like I got fucked
and didn’t like it.
Though it was necessary
To feel that much.
To experience that much.
Thinking it was trying to hurt me.
As it brought to the surface what I couldn't see or hear.
What could only be known though feeling
Through getting fucked hard.
Knowing that all along I was doing it to myself.
Yet lost in the fog of my fears.
The hall of mirrors.
Knowing that it was a blessing
disguised in the fog of my fears.
The unraveling of every life time coming to a head
Revealing itself to me.
and every thing in the way of love that I ever created.
Forgetting that it is all love.
It feels like my world has been turned upside down and I haven’t really known how to handle it or what to do with it. Having everything and doing virtually nothing.
Lacking motivation to do anything.
Having lost purpose or inspiration for love and life as I see that what I perceived to be pain or worthlessness was love asking me to stop.
I was trying to earn it instead of sharing it.
Remembering, knowing, that I am it. That it is all it.
Instead it was all based in a fight.
To be worthy
All forms of play.
And that's ok.
Losing trust in those closest to me wondering even who they are and what I am doing here.
What have I created?
What is life?
Why am I here?
What is the point?
As more and more magic is revealed I see less and less purpose in anything I am doing.
Yet that is making way for a new vision
As the reality of what I though was falls away
A new knowing.
A new love.
An allowance of what has been there all along.
What I thought was real no longer exists. The fight is over or at least on its way out.
With that love wins.
As it disintegrates every story I ever wrote in fear or need.
And with that anything that I thought mattered suddenly doesn't.
It is a terrifying prospect
like waking up on Mars.
Familiar yet different.
Things are looking up now though.
Where they are going I am uncertain.
Why I am here?
Trusting that my soul knows.
That love knows because it writes greatest stories and this one is inside of me.
All around me.
Carving its pen in the worlds and words of strangers, lovers and light.
As I open up to the limitless possibility of every and anything.
I don't know anything except, perhaps, just perhaps. That inspiration can shift and guide me back to life again. To remember what it is to be alive.
That inspiration isn't something we need to go after. We receive it. It is just there. In a resonance with pleasure, passion and play
In the form of an idea.
And that once I remember who I am. Once I allow who I am to come through me
Remembering that I simply am
That we are all one
That we are all everything
and that we are all nothing
And that more then anything we are love.
The question is how do I want to love? How much can I love?
I want to be, how I am is become clear
I know that love is here and behind everything that exists. That love is ever present and that there are enough times and places that are here to exist and explore for endless lifetimes. I can't help but wonder why this lifetime and what exists on the other side of it. Are all dreams simply manifestations to help us remember love or are they creations to create new dreams and realities or inspire others to wake up or . . . something else.
Be curious a quiet voice tells me.
I know nothing and it feels like a good place to start.
This last year was hell. Knowing it was love behind it all gives me hope knowing that it has something else in mind. Something I could never see while in the flames of the Phoenix. That it is going to surprise me.
Because all of life is a love story.
The greatest love story.