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And You May Find Yourself...

Updated: Jan 1

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack

And you may find yourself in another part of the world

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile

And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife

And you may ask yourself, "Well... how did I get here?"

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down

Letting the days go by, water flowing underground

Into the blue again after the money's gone

Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground

The Talking Heads had it right, in their album from 1980, Remain in Light. It openly questions the lack of questioning in our society, well before the era of COVID-19… Where will you wake up? Your driveway, with a hand full of files from your boss. In a Subway, realizing that the iceberg lettuce will not fill the void of shame you carry with you. Will it haunt us over millennia or burst open like an explosion at any moment? The recognition. The disclosure. The expansion. The depth this human experience has the potential to carry. Music holds a key. On a chain of many portals. An opportunity to dance (yes, Katie Spieler). To wiggle, shake and appreciate. To surrender, yes, to surrender is to be set free. Feeling fueling inviting change. It whispers in the willows. Accepting each moment as it is. No more running, nearly spinning off the hinges. Unnecessary. The breath, our livelihood. To feel fully alive. We have forgotten. Our hearts. Our service. Our exemplary opportunity to connect, to let the walls down. To be heard is to listen. Operating frequency heightened when still. Quiet. Be very very quiet. How do you feel when the noice subsides, when the volume turns down subtly inside. Give it all up. Give it all in. From the heart. To the masters. Those who have come before us to lead the way. Those who walk with us, guiding us hand in hand. Once called upon, a subtle energy. It does not come from the yells of many, but the whispers of stillness. Under the surface of many echoes, haunting, defeated echoes. Lies a beautiful serenity. Within you. I don’t know how YOU will get there. I can only encourage that it is possible.

After 5 years of fighting scratching clawing for purpose, I’m not all that sure how I got “here,” but damn it feels good. I still have the little voice that arises telling me to stop or slow down. But I now just continue to write through it. I believe my voice should be heard. I have had many people commend me, raise me up, speaking through me and to me in an attempt to shake my demons. This has all helped. Yet, did I need to struggle. Was that part of the journey? It obviously was. We need to lose the way of the world, to find a path all our own. We can never know how deep we can surrender. There is always more. There will always be more to fall deeper into. More imagination, creativity and love. Under the echoes. They are just echoes. Mere echoes. Not you. Not too strong to overcome by no means. One day, all these mountains will fall. And you will say, how did I get here? And you will not care, because the glint of joy to be exactly where you are will overpower any feeling or worry of where you have been. It will all feel alright, because you will know it all to have been worth it and then some. Paper mache walls. Falling down. Disclosing all the performances we have put on. All the debacles, unnecessary dramas. A theater in which we have been the puppets. Seeing our strings and accepting them when we have the scissors to escape and smile at the bondage. Yet with open hearts and wielding sharp blades we come back and offer a hand. A revolution of the heart and the freedom of the chains of the soul. Renewed, afresh. Thank you for your scissors. If you see a string I missed, make sure to reach out. I will do the same. Cut it out. All the bologna. Anything that is not you. Still to be loved. A charade that served its purpose. An act that kept us safe. Out of harms away, out of the attacks. Penned away. Blocked so as to remain untarnished. Fearfully hiding away or fearfully passing along venom. It’s all the same poison. One that is ignorant, unintentionally unaware to the infinite potential infinite power. We possess. I, you, me only us on our own can endeavor the individual path to go inward, and seek the truth and truly believe it. To feel the power of Jesus and God and the universe and the divinity at work within all of us. Begging to be unlocked into the light. All in due time. Revelations. We are living in it. This is the end. The end of how things were. The end of darkness casting a shadow of control and monitoring, hindering our progress As a means to disempower the love and endlessness we hold. To stymie this light. This is the return of the Christ. The Son. The Sun. Shining brightest. Returning the hearts, awakening the people.

If you see something you do not like, look inward. If you don’t like what you see, give it up to the powers that be. Eternity. Is a long time. Thats why I’ll stop trying to think about it. To analyze it. The brainstorming the planning the lists of production. Lost. Anew. Bargaining with the devil a lonely cause. Immediate in the pain body. Present in harmful conversations. Poisonous relations. Judgments incarcerations. Pain swirling. Take your head out of the game. Put on a new hat. Wear it proudly. Go deeper. There’s peace there. There is light beneath the carnage. Through it, with it. I don’t know how I got here. Was it my own doing? Did that get in the way? Likely. But when you seek, the answers are given. And when the answers are given, it’s best to let them go. And just live. Live live live. Give. Give. At the center of me, you are free.


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