When Fools Rush In | You're Still Here | FEAR
It’s ok to think of you and your happiness before everyone else’s. Does this make you a bad person? NO! Does this make you selfish? You bet! However, the lesson shows that selfishness is not a bad thing in itself, but self-serving behavior can be. Just be careful when discerning the two and you will be fine.
Your Own Galaxy
I was told I entered this existence with a comfort for self containment. Any interruption in my inner balance was met by a swift retreat in to my room, where I stayed until I felt I had regained the peace that was presumably placed within my being as the root from which all moments in my life should stem. It seemed that, even as a child, I had the very human need to maintain my own balance amongst the weights of the world tugging at every corner of us all. Not until much later in life was I able to quantify and articulate the work I had been doing in my inner world. I made my very own place within which to find the comfort the outside world may not always be so easily swayed to offer. I had built a way to make my inner self my comfort zone and look to share these techniques in the event that it might help someone to create their own inner comfort.
If you had a magic wand would you change your world? Would you heal your eyes to see? Would you heal your ears to hear? What wondrous beauties would lurk behind dark corners? Shadows pulling back further and further to reveal a green and purple feeling landscape that flows through the air to guide you. Would you change them? Would you change the way they make you feel? Seeing happy faces glow and sparkle in the moment of your arrival. Feeling nothing but a tingling warmth every time. What kind of world would it be darling? Skies would display a fractal rainbow that seems to be different in every sense of the word with each glance. Would you make your heart bigger? Eyes fill with sapphire tears at the sight of anything enchanting, which is everything. Dancing on soul shapes and whirling through a romantic song in the night under the moon would be your life. Nothing would hurt, would it? Each pin prick furled and sealed with ecstasy. How would you learn your lessons my dear? How would you know what good is without the torture? Can this be wished upon and manifested in to a true life’s being? Its there beauty in it all? Is there beauty in the easy beauty? Can there be?
Today I woke to a borderline strange feeling that I can only seem to relate to "homesickness". It's a funny thing, this feeling, especially because I have never truly felt as if I have had a home (spiritually and physically). In regard to this subject, most of my adult life has been a state of wandering to seek out place that may finally be THE place. The place I plant roots, the place I call home, the place I feel home. Last year proved to be the pinnacle of this wandering. Booking one way tickets, and taking in all of the textures and sounds around me. Is this home? Many different places that varied in people, weather, food, and culture. None of them felt like home. Now, this existential searching did not lie within the realm of the conscious, it very much operated from a primitive part of my core that was not yet explored or illuminated. Until today. The most revealing question I've really ever asked, "how can you be homesick for a place that you haven't found?"
She opens her eyes in a slow, fluid motion, careful not to startle her unusually sensitive corneas. As her eyes glide to an almost fully open position, she sees a flutter of light similar to something you would see if light was reflecting from a watch glass or small mirror. This made her tense and alert, hastening her slow emergence process to swiftly sit straight up. She finds herself strapped to a chair that seems to be just floating inside, what looks to be, a small galaxy shifting around her. The straps that contained her were almost invisible and could only be seen in silhouette by her periphery.
I’ve been in the process of discovery regarding symbols and perspective in regards to time. The most recent totem being a simple key. This key was given by my love shorty after we started dating, or possibly slightly before. At first the key represented something special and light, a totem showing trust and devotion. It felt light and almost magical in my pocket, like something really new, close, and special was entering my life. At this point I had not stopped to question why such a small token sparked these feelings. I continued down the path of the lack of examination for a while, until I started noticed something strange. This bright key started to become tarnished and heavy, like a rock had been fastened to my key chain without permission. It was a troubling pull of reality on my mind.
He Was the Spirit
It was a chilly night in Los Angeles and I sat in a circle of new friends plunged in deep discussion about the spiritual and material values of life. There were agreements and disagreements, laughter and grimacing, and all of the things that make a great conversation all consuming. I was in my perfect type of heaven. Then, everything stopped. He politely walked through, not so much graceful as grateful that we made the room for him. He had a beat up hat, a heavy camera around his neck, and kind, inquisitive eyes. It felt like I was noticing something for the first time, and that something... was everything. Time returned to normal and I re-joined the conversation, which seemed to flow and whirl through the entire night. In what felt like a brief moment everyone had dissipated, and I sat there alone with my head bowed thinking about what great things lie ahead with new voices and faces from the night. Then I feel the soft presence sit down next to me. I look up to see the beat up hat, the camera, and the inquisitive eyes.